


Aunt Rina

by SinPark



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: And supportive, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bang Chan is a Mess, Bang Chan-centric, Belts, Bondage, Crying, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Depressive Episode, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Han Jisung | Han-centric, Han Jisung/Original Female Character, Handcuffs, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Going to Hell, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internal Conflict, Jeongin and Hyunjin are worried, Kinda, Knifeplay, Men Crying, Molestation, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Consensual Violence, OT8, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Male Character(s) - Freeform, Pain, Painful Sex, Panic Attacks, Rape/Non-con Elements, Read the warnings, Riding Crops, Rope Bondage, Sex, Sexual Abuse, Smut, Vaginal Sex, at the beginning, read the notes, read the summary, read the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:49:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28621335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinPark/pseuds/SinPark
Summary: Decisions have consequences, and they can have more impact than we realize. Jisung has known that ever since he learned his relationship with his aunt wasn't healthy, but Chan learns it now, after one phone call lead to the destruction of one of his best friend.Due to the decisions of others, Jisung is once again forced to be alone with a woman who has far more power over him than he could ever hope to have over himself, and the consequences of those decisions, are dire.WARNING:This fic contains dark and highly upsetting content, such as rape. Be sure to read the tags and check chapter notes at the beginning of EVERY chapter to be fully aware of what to expect.
Comments: 32
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, if you're going to read this, I need you to ask yourself something first. Can you differentiate fiction from reality? If the answer to that is no, I sincerely ask you to close this tab and never come back. This is a work of fiction, not a true story. This is not a reflection of my wants or desires. This is the outcome of several hours of thinking, plotting, writing, and editing. If you can't tell the difference, you are not mature enough for this branch of content.
> 
> Secondly, you should not need me to tell you this, but I don't actually condone rape, the same way I don't condone things I've written in my other fics (sex without proper prep, sibling abuse, or non-consensual touching from a teacher, for example). I don't owe you a monologue on why it's not okay. It's not.
> 
> Most importantly, this work contains graphic scenes of rape, as in non-consensual sex. I will be putting more warnings in the chapters that contain any triggering content. PAY ATTENTION TO THE NOTES. That is where you will find your warnings for every chapter that requires them. If I fail to properly tag or warn for something, comment and I will correct it.
> 
> Lastly, I don't owe anyone an explanation as to why I wrote this, and if you keep reading the notes for each of the upcoming chapters, I'm sure you'll learn why. I'm not sorry for writing this. It's properly tagged and warned, so if you get hurt, it's because you chose to read it. I'm not posting this to attack or harm people. It's fanfiction on a website designed for fanfiction.
> 
> If you are made uncomfortable at any point while reading this, I encourage you to click off and find something more suitable for your tastes.
> 
> Chapter word count: 2,638
> 
> WARNINGS for this chapter: Minor depressive episode, panic attacks.

The alarm on the nightstand read 5:03 A.M; an hour before Jisung needed to start his day. He shifted his gaze to stare at the boards of the bed above him where Hyunjin slept.

For the past two weeks, he had been restless, stirring hours before he wanted to be out of bed or lying awake late into the night, unable to sleep. It began during their break after “GO Live” promotions. Somehow, their schedule cleared for five consecutive days, which happened to coincide with Jisung’s annual family get together.

He sighed and silently wished to find no bags under his eyes when he checked himself in the mirror. Jisung stilled to listen for any noise. Jeongin usually woke up around this time to leave for school by 6:00, but it was Sunday.

_Nobody will be up for at least a couple more hours… Chan didn’t even stay out late…_

A merciless silence overtook the room, becoming all too real. Memories flashed through Jisung’s mind; his lips turned down when a woman’s voice rang in his ears.

_I missed you, Jisung! How’ve you been?_

The pleasantries at the beginning of every downward spiral; the first step of the plot to tear Jisung apart. He shut his eyes. Hatred for those words and the voice that spoke them seeped through his veins like poison.

_Why? Why do I still think about it? It’s not happening anymore, so why am I this hung up over it? He scolded himself with a sigh._

Her presence lingered on him everywhere her skin had made contact with his. The faint pressure of her hand on his cheek remained, even when he’d left her. The ghost of her fingers ran across his jaw. Jisung shuddered beneath his sheets. He rolled over and crossed his arms. All over his body, he felt the hands that weren’t there, but somehow stuck to him from so far away.

Jisung shook his head. _Quit being anxious over this. Nobody knows, and they’re not looking at you any differently. It’s always weird right after, so just focus on the team in the here and now and not on things that happened a month ago or a year ago or when you were seven. You’re gonna be fine._

These mental pep-talks became a constant; one had occurred every morning for the past several days. The week before, though, was the worst. Jisung had completely shut down. With a simple excuse of exhaustion, the others would leave him alone in bed for hours without further question. Once, Felix cast him an unsure expression, but allowed him to retreat under his covers nonetheless.

Jisung glared at the boards to the bed above him.

_This is how it always goes,_ he thought bitterly. _I suffer, every damn time, and no one questions me or her or it or anything. But do I want them to?_

The notion churned his stomach. Acid seemed to bubble in Jisung’s throat at the mere idea. He knew the truth.

_No. They can’t. I’d never be able to look them in the eyes if they found out…_

Shame seeped through the cracks in his mind. He knew better than to worry about his bandmates being judgmental. To think of them so lowly was to misrepresent all they’d done; providing comfort to those who wanted it, holding strong when the world called them weak, and forming a family when their own couldn’t show up.

He gasped softly when a particular evening haunted his conscience.

_“Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy this at all,” she hissed. “You wouldn’t be so hard right now if that were true.”_

A silent tear raced down his cheek. It felt too real. Sometimes, he’d have a rough day, sure, but rarely did it escalate to the point that he became paralyzed by fear in his own home, where he knew he’d find comfort and safety.

_Suddenly, her hands slipped from his nipples, and for a moment, he believed she might stop...but she never did that. One of her palms moved to cradle his neck, where her lips and tongue sucked marks into his skin, while the other clawed down his chest, scraping red lines onto his abdomen._

Jisung jumped to sit up, snapping out of the trance. His breaths came in frantic, shallow gasps. A wave of nausea hit him like a semi. He failed to quiet himself before Seungmin stirred in the bed to his right.

“Jisung?” the younger croaked; voice dry from sleep. “What’s wrong?”

Jisung shook his head to signal for the other to leave him be, but still couldn’t catch his breath. Seungmin sat up, but Jisung held out a hand, and he froze.

“Dream,” he managed. “Just freaked out a little. I’m fine.”

Doubt swam in the boy’s eyes, illuminated by moonlight. Jisung almost thought he’d come over anyway, but Seungmin lay his head back on his pillow.

“Ask if you need something,” he said.

Jisung hummed his response and pulled himself out from his blankets. He cringed when his toes hit the chilled wooden floor, but slipped on a pair of black fuzzy socks and tread into the bathroom, flicking on the light. After the initial blindness subsided, Jisung glanced himself over.

Purple marks formed circles under his eyes as though he’d been punched, standing out against his pale skin. With a shake of his head, Jisung turned the knob of the sink and spritzed water over his face. He ran a comb through his hair and brushed his teeth before going back to his room, then grabbed a shirt and pants without checking to see if they matched. Fortunately, they did; a plain white t-shirt and light gray sweats. His heart continued to race from the flashback.

_She isn’t here. Keep breathing, it’s fine._

His thoughts came like rapidfire, one word after the other in frantic rhythm. Jisung continued his motivational speech in his head until he found himself at the dining table around two hours later, with Chan at one end, directly to his right, and Jeongin on Jisung’s left. Everyone scraped away at their near-empty bowls of cereal, or whatever else they snatched to eat. Felix and Seungmin chatted with one another about possible content for V Live, while Jeongin listened to Hyunjin talk about something that happened during their last practice.

“Jisungie,” Minho called. “Are you alright? You haven’t said a word, and didn’t get anything for breakfast.”

Jisung blinked his clouded thoughts from earlier that morning away to gaze at the man across the table.

“Huh?”

“Do you feel okay? You’ve got to be hungry; you’ve barely been out of your room since you got back from vacation,” Minho repeated.

Jisung shrugged. “I’m okay.”

“Those bags under your eyes say differently,” Hyunjin said from the opposite end of Chan. “I can hear you rustling around at night. What’s going on?” He kept his tone gentle, but Jisung couldn’t help his defensive manner.

“Just got a lot on my mind. I’ll be over it soon. It’s already getting better.”

He didn’t lie. Jisung _had_ improved from the week prior.

Minho huffed. “You really won’t eat? I can fix you something and bring it to your room if you want.”

“No,” he mumbled.

The chime of Chan’s phone interrupted the conversation. The elder plucked it from the corner of the table.

“Hold up. It’s the manager.”

The group kept quiet as the blonde spoke into the phone. While Chan conversed with whoever was on the other end of the line, Minho gently slid a small plate with some apple slices in front of him. Begrudgingly, Jisung took a bite.

“Good morning. No, that’s alright… Oh? I’m sure he’d love that, it sounds great. Okay. After the show, right? Okay. Thank you! You too. Goodbye.”

“Jisung,” Chan sang as he plopped back into his seat. “Your aunt, Rina, got in touch with the manager.”

His heart froze in time with his lungs, but he kept his composure.

“She’ll be coming into town after our final show at Music Bank for some kind of community event. Anyway, she contacted Sangmin, and he set things up so that you’re going to stay with her for three or four days.”

Jisung blinked. His hands shook where he hid them in his lap under the table.

“Aren’t you excited?” Changbin asked from the kitchen sink as he rinsed his dishes.

He looked to Chan, but the elder only stared at him blankly, awaiting a response. Jisung bit his lip and shifted his gaze to his vibrating hands.

“Please don’t make me go.” His voice had never sounded quite so small around the members. They always seemed to boost his confidence.

“What? Why not?” Chan tilted his head.

“I can’t…” Jisung cursed himself, but took a deep breath. “I can’t tell you. Just...I already saw her recently, I’m sure she won’t mind if I cancel. Please let me stay here.”

He glanced up to see everyone looking between him and Chan, who sighed.

“Jisung...the plans are already made. I get that she might not be your favorite person in the world, but it would be really rude to call things off, especially since she already cleared everything with management. Can’t you just go see her for a couple days?”

Bile swirled in his stomach as another flash of nausea hit him. Jisung shook his head.

“Please, I don’t want to go,” he pleaded, trying to keep his desperation out of his tone.

A hand covered Jisung’s shaking one in his lap, and he peered over to meet Jeongin’s eyes. The younger squeezed his palm.

“Chan has a point,” Felix called. “She lives a few hours away, right?” Jisung nodded. “So it takes a lot of time for her to come see you, and she loves you. A few days couldn’t hurt.”

_You don’t understand._

Before Jisung could speak, Jeongin put in a word.

“Not that I want to argue, but Jisung seems really down lately. If he doesn’t want to go this badly, I’m sure we could tell his aunt that he’s been overwhelmed and needs a little more time to rest. She’d probably be understanding.”

“The manager mentioned that it really meant a lot to her to see her nephew,” Chan said. “I think you should go, Jisung. If you end up not liking it, it’s only a couple days.”

“I don’t want to go!” Jisung implored.

“Why not, then?” Changbin deadpanned.

“I-” he cut himself off. Another deep breath. “I can’t tell you.”

Chan shifted in his chair. “Well, if you can give me a decent reason to cancel, I will, Jisung, but you not wanting to just doesn’t cut it. Quality time with family is more important than you might think.”

Jisung saw Felix nod out of the corner of his eye. Guilt poked at his heart.

_At least I get to go see my relatives. Theirs are in another country._

“Why should he have to go if he’d rather stay here?” Hyunjin questioned with an underlying tone of attitude. “It’s his choice, after all. Just because you don’t get to see your family doesn’t mean Jisung should be required to visit his every opportunity he gets. Jeongin’s right. He should be allowed to cancel. He saw his aunt two weeks ago. She’ll live another few months.”

“How about,” Seungmin began, “Jisung sucks it up and goes, so everyone can quit bickering?”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Changbin said. “Let’s do that.”

“No!” Jisung pleaded. “Do not make me go, Chan, please.”

Jeongin’s fingers laced between his.

Chan shook his head. “Jisung, you’re going.”

Minho hummed. “Maybe he _should_ stay,” He suggested gently. “He obviously hasn’t been himself since the first trip. If he says he needs some time off, we should believe him.”

Jisung sent the elder a smile as a silent ‘thank you’.

“Why don’t we get a vote to break the tie?” Jeongin suggested. “Minho, Hyunjin and I think Jisung should do what he wants.” The youngest looked to Chan. “You, Felix and Seungmin think he should go anyway. Changbin hasn’t really expressed an opinion, and he’s the oldest out of everyone who hasn’t voted. Plus, he’s really close with Jisung, and would want what’s best for him. Can we all agree on that?”

Grumbled replies seeped from everyone in the room. When no one protested, Jisung looked to Changbin, who had returned to his seat between Seungmin and Minho.

“I...I don’t know, Jisung. I think you might regret it later if you don’t go.”

Jisung felt himself unravel; his body being broken from the inside out. An ache shot through his chest like an arrow, and he cracked. Sobs bubbled up from his throat as his head fell into his hands. Jeongin pulled him into a hug with his brows furrowed. Chan’s shoulders relaxed as he moved closer to rest a hand on Jisung’s shoulder.

“Jisung, what has you so worked up like this?”

“I-I can’t tell- tell you!” he cried, clinging onto Jeongin like a lifeline. Hyunjin rounded the table to hug Jisung at the shoulders.

Jisung’s breaths turned rapid and short. He hated that the members could see him so vulnerable. A panic attack at the breakfast table wasn’t part of his plans for the day.

“Jisung,” rang Chan’s steady voice. “You can tell us anything.”

_Not this._

“No,” he whispered into Jeongin’s chest. “I real-ly just do-don’t want to go.” Words flooded past Jisung’s lips like dominoes; fast and in pieces.

A collective sigh resounded.

“How about this,” Chan said. “You’ll still go, but you can call me at any time, for any reason, and I will come get you, no questions asked. Okay?”

Jisung whined.

_I can’t get out of going… There might not be a better option than this._

“Fine.”

“Come on,” Hyunjin said, pulling him up a little. “Let’s go to my room.”

Jisung didn’t fail to catch the glare he cast to Chan. When Jisung nodded, the elder tugged him from Jeongin’s grasp and led him out of the dining area. The youngest followed right behind them and closed the door once they were all in the bedroom. Jeongin sat with Jisung on the bed while Hyunjin knelt at his feet.

“I don’t think they should make you go.” Hyunjin shook his head as he talked. He sighed, and a brief silence encased the trio. “After the showcase, when she comes to pick you up, if you still feel this strongly about it, I want you to tell me, and I don’t care if I have to hide you in one of the dressing rooms, I will not let her leave with you.” He took one of Jisung’s hands in his. “Understand?”

Jisung nodded. Shame flurried through his stomach.

_I shouldn’t need to be comforted like a child._

Jeongin’s head rested on his shoulder, deterring him from his thoughts.

“You don’t have to say what’s wrong,” the youngest promised. “We can tell this is more than just wanting to stay home.”

He bit his lips to hold back further sobs. Jeongin’s arms wrapped around his waist, and Jisung held his breath in an attempt to quiet down.

“I get that Chan loves us,” Jeongin started, “but that doesn’t mean he knows what’s best for us. He’s only this determined to make you go because he misses home, and he doesn’t want that for you.”

“I…” He huffed. “The performance is tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin said. “But if the thought of going with her makes you feel like this, I don’t want to wait and find out what it’ll do to you to actually go. I will not let it happen if you don’t want it to. Just say the word and she’s gone.”

Jisung nodded.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS:  
> Discussion of panic attack
> 
> Chapter word count:  
> 1,078
> 
> This one's a bit shorter, but definitely progresses the plot and gives insight as to where the other characters stand. Also, every other chapter will be from Chan's perspective. It will swap back and forth between his and Jisung's.

Chan’s eyes remained wide even after Hyunjin and Jeongin had escorted Jisung from the room. He swallowed thickly. He’d never seen Jisung have a panic attack; never even knew he got them. Emotion lay at the base of his neck, but he struggled to tie a name to it. Not surprise, a little bit of confusion, but still something more. Guilt that he’d caused such a reaction? Hurt that Jisung had kept a secret? Chan put it off for later and faced Changbin.

“Did you know?” he asked, tone quieter than he’d intended.

Changbin only shook his head. “He didn’t tell you, either?”

“If I knew he’d get so upset, I wouldn’t have said anything. I don’t even know what triggered that.”

“Does anyone know?” Seungmin asked, carefully looking around the room for any confirmation. When none came, the boy continued. “He never said a word to anybody?”

“It could’ve been his first,” Felix suggested. “That would explain why none of us had any idea.”

Chan nodded, but it felt off.

_Having your first panic attack at twenty? For something as small as going to see his aunt? Jisung’s one of the least likely to overreact out of all of us, so why? His anxiety is about crowds, so could this just stem from tomorrow’s showcase?_

“That doesn’t make sense,” Changbin said. “Most people who get them start in middle school, or at least before graduation. Out of all the things we’ve been through with him, it would have happened before now.”

Minho hummed. “So, if this wasn’t his first panic attack, why wouldn’t he tell us? I know we all like to keep to ourselves when we’re upset, but Jisung’s a very open person. It’s odd that he wouldn’t let someone know.”

“He’s seen how well you take care of me when I get like that,” Changbin muttered. “Maybe he doesn’t want to be treated the same? Don’t get me wrong, I think you’ve all reacted very well when I’ve freaked out in front of you, but it’s possible he wouldn’t like that.”

“Even if that’s the case, why not just say so?” Seungmin wondered.

Chan shrugged. “I don’t know, but that’s not the point. Something’s up, and he’s not telling us. I don’t… I don’t know.”

“We should ask him about it; straightforward,” Felix proposed. “The less we assume, the better.”

Chan peered up from his lap to find Felix staring at him, along with everyone else. A knot formed in his chest.

“No,” he refused. “I shouldn’t be the one to say anything.”

“Why not?” Minho questioned. “You’re the leader. It’s your job to create a space for conversation.”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and suddenly, he felt too visible; a burst of color in a black-and-white room, a single rose amongst a thousand thorns. Shame crept up the sides of Chan’s face until it reached his eyes, and he clenched them shut with a short gasp.

“I think I’ve done enough.”

“Chan,” Seungmin tried. “No one expected him to react like that. It’s not your fault.”

“I know it’s not my fault!” He spat, looking the younger in the eyes. “I just- I don’t know. I don’t think I should be involved. It’s better if he comes to me first, when he’s ready to talk. I am not going to force him into a conversation with me.”

He stood and grabbed his and Jisung’s plates, the latter’s still half covered by his uneaten meal. Chan frowned, but continued into the kitchen anyway, throwing the remains in the trash before washing the dishes. Warm water ran over his cold hands.

_Go to the studio. I can get some work done until things settle down at the house, and Jisung won’t have to worry about bumping into me._

“Chris.”

Chan’s head snapped up at the call of his name. Changbin leaned against the counter a few paces behind him. A glance to his left showed that the others had fled the scene. Chan never heard them leave. His gaze focused back to the other man as he tried to calculate how long he’d been standing there scrubbing at the spotless plate in his hands.

“You’ve been out of it for eight minutes,” the rapper informed. “Called your Korean name three times.”

He turned the sink off with a sigh.

_He’s always been too good at reading me._

“Jisung is not going to blame you.”

“How do you know that?” The edge of the counter dug into Chan’s lower back as he propped his elbows against it.

“He’s not irrational. Everyone knows you weren’t trying to make that happen. It just did. There was no controlling it.”

“I get that,” Chan mumbled.

“Do you?” Changbin quirked a brow. “You might not blame yourself for the panic attack, but you’re overthinking _something._ Talk to me, and let’s figure this out.”

Chan shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said for the umth time. “I must have triggered it. Something I did sent him over the edge. Now Hyunjin’s mad at me, and I’m just trying not to choke on all the tension I caused.”

“Everyone made things tense,” Changbin corrected. “Hyunjin’s tone, Seungmin’s attitude, my decision. We all played a part. Minho and Jeongin did the most to calm things down, but it escalated too quickly. At least give some credit to circumstances.”

“Logically, I know I didn’t do anything wrong. Some time away with people who love him might get him out of this...funk, or whatever it is. But I _feel_ like the walls are caving in, and I’m the one holding the hammer.”

Changbin motioned him forward and Chan allowed himself to be pulled into the awaiting embrace. He took a deep breath.

“I know you can’t help it, but sometimes I wish you wouldn’t feel so much. It’s good, most of the time, because you're sympathetic towards us. You’re so damn hard on yourself, though.” Changbin’s chest rumbled as he spoke.

“You’re not wrong,” he replied. “I’ll get over it.” He pulled back. “I’m gonna head to the studio, try to get something done. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable…”

The younger’s shoulders slumped as a frown curved its way onto his face. “It isn’t like that, Chan.”

“I’ll feel better if I’m not here.”

_Out of the way._

The dark-haired man shook his head, but didn’t stop Chan as he walked past, grabbing his keys and coat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading the second chapter. Third will likely come in a couple of days. Warning you now, though, that's when it gets really dark and heavy. Further warnings and author's notes will be in the beginning and end chapter notes though so you'll know specifically what you're getting into.
> 
> Please feel welcome to leave a comment, let me know what you think/how you like it so far. I hope you've all enjoyed!  
> ~Prince


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS:
> 
> Non-consensual touching, minor dissociation in the middle.
> 
> Word count: 2,373

_You can make it through the performance,_ Jisung promised himself. Every tick of the clock brought him closer to his aunt. He did his best to avoid checking the time, while anxiety ate away at his shaky hands and rapidly-beating heart. He managed to sneak off to the bathroom for a blessed moment alone.

Hyunjin, Jeongin and Minho had stuck to him like glue since the incident at breakfast. Jisung felt thankful that nobody had brought it up. He sank to the floor by the sinks and huffed, careful not to lean his head back and ruin all the stylists’ hard work on his hair.

_My little Sungie~_

His brows furrowed as his breaths became choppy, like waves in the ocean crashing onto each other.

“No.” He hardly heard himself whisper as the voice in his head grew louder. Multiple memories clashed together to form one giant blur of inescapable pain.

_I can only imagine how horrified they would be to see you like this. Can’t you picture it? Your mother walking in to find you whining and begging for me. Your cousins would never speak to you again, you’re so filthy._

“Stop.”

_I’ll leave you like this through dinner and tell them you fell asleep if you don’t start behaving._

He shook his head. “Please.”

_You enjoy being a toy for me, don’t you?_

“I don’t.”

A knock on the door grounded him to the present. His eyes snapped up while his breaths slowed down.

“Um, hello?” a voice called.

_Thank God I remembered to lock it._

Jisung stood and brushed himself off as he glanced at the mirror. Eyes glossy, but no fallen tears. Lip swollen from biting. Overall, not too shabby. He unlocked the door. A stranger stood in front of him.

“My bad, I must’ve accidentally locked it when I came in,” he chuckled awkwardly.

The stranger shrugged and walked in as Jisung left.

“All good.”

With a deep breath, Jisung headed back to the dressing rooms down the hall. When he opened the door, absolute chaos enveloped the interior; stylists scurrying around to make sure everyone fit into their clothes, doing some emergency touch-ups to Seungmin’s makeup, Chan chasing Felix in an attempt to tackle him to the ground, all the while Minho shouting to see if anyone had seen his phone.

He chuckled, plucking the device from the top of Changbin’s bag. “You left it with Bin, remember?”

Half the room froze. The staff continued to rush about like hummingbirds.

“Jisungie!” Felix screamed as he threw himself against Jisung’s chest. “Save me! He’s a monster!”

Jisung spun them so that Felix now stood behind him and held up one hand toward a panting Chan.

“If you want him, you’ll have to go through me!” he declared, and instantly regretted it when the eldest’s eyes honed in on him.

“I’m okay with that,” he said. “Are you?”

Jisung’s eyes widened at the playful threat. “On second thought, Felix, would you hate me till the end of time if I fled for my life right about now?”

“Please!” The blonde clung onto his waste from behind. “We can escape together. I’ll open the door and we’ll run out. He’ll never see it coming.”

“Felix, I can hear you,” Chan said incredulously.

“Good plan,” Jisung commended. “But, we have a better chance of survival if we attack him both at once. We hit him with everything we’ve got and he’ll go down like a sack of bricks.”

“Let’s do it,” Felix agreed.

“Boys, settle down,” their manager called from the sofa off to one side. “You need to be ready in ten minutes, and that’s not enough time to fix your hair.”

“This isn’t over,” Chan said, tone menacing. “When we get home, you’ll both be sorry.”

“And scene,” Changbin said as he stepped between them. “Where’d you go, Ji?”

He shrugged. “Bathroom.”

Changbin nodded and turned to Felix. “Forgive me for not paying attention, but what did you do to make him chase you in the first place?”

“Good question,” Jisung added. The lightheartedness of the situation brought a smile to his lips. He felt his shoulders relax as the joy of the moment overtook him.

Felix scrunched up his mouth to make a mischievous face. “I stole these!” He retrieved Chan’s earbuds from his pocket and laughed evilly before returning his expression to normal. “Don’t worry, I’ll give them back before we get in the van.”

“Five minutes! Let’s head out,” Seungmin said.

Everyone filed into the hallway where one of the backstage directors waited to lead them in the right direction. As they made countless turns through a copious number of hallways, Jisung’s thoughts wandered to Hyunjin’s promise from the night before.

_I will not let her leave with you._

Jisung rolled his shoulders with a newfound confidence.

_Right after the showcase, I’ll tell him, and I won’t go with her. I won’t even have to look her in the eye._

Then they were on stage, and though he looked, Jisung didn’t spot his aunt anywhere in the crowd. What felt like seconds later, he found himself sweaty at the end of the performance. The lights shut off and he stumbled like a drunk off of the stage, unable to remember the last five minutes, save for a couple flashes of spotlights and shifts in choreography. He felt someone tucking their arm under his and across his back. Jisung allowed himself to be guided along. With each step, the blur faded, and he became more aware of his surroundings, realizing it was Jeongin half-carrying him.

Several staff members were in their waiting room when they arrived, but Jisung tried to block out their chatter. Jeongin left him in one of the cramped changing rooms to swap outfits, which he did without bothering to check if his shirt was on inside-out or not. When he emerged, Jeongin took his arm and walked him to the other side of the room and placed him in one of the makeup artists’ seats before going to change. Jisung felt someone removing all the eyeliner, concealer, and whatever else they’d doused his pores in.

A woman’s voice sounded from somewhere behind him. For a moment, Jisung found it oddly familiar.

That thought lingered. In the blink of an eye, Jisung emerged from the water; senses on fire. Lights shone too bright at the edges of the mirror in front of him, and the noise became deafening for several seconds before it all dulled.

_She’s here._

He sat up ramrod straight and peeked around the chair, startling the young lady trying to remove his makeup. He muttered a halfhearted apology as his eyes darted around the room. Before he could spot the woman he was looking for, Hyunjin’s broad chest appeared in front of him, blocking his view.

“Easy,” Hyunjin says under his breath. “It’s just me. How are you feeling?”

“Killer headache,” he grumbled. “I’m on edge. Where is she?”

“Your aunt?” Hyunjin questioned. When Jisung nods, he shrugs. “Sangmin is talking with her in the hall. He saw you were a bit out of it when you came off stage so he figured you’d want a minute before seeing her.”

He nodded. “Hyunjin, I-”

“Jisung, your Aunt Rina is here,” manager Sangmin said, guiding the woman forward.

Hyunjin stepped out of the way, now beside Jisung’s chair. His arm wrapped around the ravenette’s shoulders as his other hand came to rest on Jisung’s right bicep. When he glanced up, Jisung found Hyunjin’s lips molded into a pout, brows furrowed; not an expression he wore often.

Jeongin appeared behind him and leaned over the back of the chair to whisper.

“I can go get the hyungs, if you want,” he offered. “You don’t have to go with her. We can work something out.”

Jisung licked his lips, numb to the words.

_This is fine. Hyunjin will make an excuse if need be, and we can get out of here._

His aunt came towards him, dressed up in a shiny, deep green button up that reminded Jisung of a clerk, paired with a black pencil skirt. A small purse hung from her arm. Dark brown locks pooled just past her shoulders and curled at the bottom; styled to imitate a respectable, middle-aged woman.

“Jisung!” she cooed as he stood from his chair. “You performed so well! Your manager here scored me a really good seat so I could see the show.”

He nodded, unable to think of any string of words to fit the conversation.

“Well, are you about ready? Chan kindly helped take your things to the car a minute ago.” Her palm landed softly on his arm, prepared to lead him away from the safety of the public at his word. His breath caught in his throat, and Jisung froze under her touch. His fingers seemed to chill at the contact, to the point that they lost feeling.

“Yeah, do you think you’re ready to go?” Hyunjin asked.

Jisung understood what that really meant.

_If you want to be away from her, you have to say something now._

He almost did, but then her hand shifted a little, and she answered for him that he’s tired and would probably love to get back to her hotel room as soon as possible. Chan, who Jisung realized was behind him, cast a questioning look, but Jisung only nodded and followed along, _petrified_ by her presence. It was all he could do to walk dumbly to her car in the staff’s private parking garage, without any recollection of the trip there.

Poison fear settled in his heart. Sangmin arranged for him to spend four days and nights with her. She opened the door for him and slammed it shut once he buckled in and walked around to slide into her own seat. Her demeanor changed on a dime; kind smile now a harsh line. The car started, and she drove them out of the parking lot onto the streets of the city.

After a couple minutes of the radio playing quiet jazz, her hand met his left thigh, and he shuddered. Vomit lingered at the base of his throat.

“I’m so happy to see you, Sungie,” she said, her voice a dark melody in his ears. “Your dear manager seemed to think you’d be so excited to stay with me for a while. It made me wonder what you’d said to make him think so highly. It’s almost as if you really do enjoy our time together.”

He sank away from her, but her fingers tightened on his leg and his body went rigid.

“I don’t,” he muttered.

Her brow quirked up. “Then why did you agree, the one time you had an opportunity to avoid me?”

“I didn’t,” he said through clenched teeth. “I told them I didn’t want to come.”

“Well, I guess even your friends know you better than that.”

“Stop it.” His tone came out weaker than he wished it to. “Don’t talk about them.”

Her hand crept upwards and inwards on his thigh. She scoffed. “Afraid I’ll say something that turns out to be true?” She paused for Jisung to respond, but continued when he kept his mouth shut. “Fine. Just you and me for the rest of the week.”

Jisung took a deep breath and soaked up the slow beat of the jazz. He turned his eyes to the window. An ache formed in his chest at the longing to join the world on the other side of the glass.

The hand on his leg moved to his groin. Jisung swallowed a whine. Rina palmed at his crotch for most of the ride, stilling every now and then. Heat caressed his neck in a deep blush while shame crept up his spine.

They came to a stoplight when she spoke again.

“Give me your phone.”

He turned his head to face her, but she kept her gaze forward.

“What?”

“Let me have your phone,” Rina said again.

“Why?”

“Don’t test me, Jisung. Give me your phone now, or you won’t like what I do later.”

He sighed softly, eyes switching to his lap. He adjusted momentarily to pull the device from his pocket. Before Jisung had the chance to click it on to see any notifications he might have, his aunt plucked it out of his hands and hid it away in her purse.

“Good.”

The drive ended sooner than expected when his aunt pulled up to the hotel.

“Wait in the car,” she ordered dryly, stepping out. Even with the doors closed, Jisung could hear the clack of her heels against the asphalt.

_Get up,_ he scolded himself. _Get out of the car. She’s not even looking!_ His anxiety got the better of him. _If she catches you, it’ll only make things that much more painful. This isn’t worth that risk!_

Jisung questioned the logic. Rina returned to the driver’s seat before he built up enough courage to run.

“All set,” she sang.

He rested his head back in defeat, accepting his fate as she rolled them to one of the offside buildings for suites.

Rina popped the trunk and motioned for Jisung to follow her. She grabbed her own bag and he took his considerably smaller one before she locked the car. He followed her to suite 108 B, a room on the first level with three stairs which led up to a tiny porch which held a bench. It looked far more comfortable than he felt.

She slid her keycard into the slot and entered first. Jisung made sure the door shut completely before turning on the lights. They stood in a slightly cramped entryway with a small closet. It opened up to a kitchen, fully-equipped with an oven, stove and a bar to eat at. On the other side, Jisung spotted a couch against the right hand wall which faced a TV on the left. An ovular coffee table lay between them. A desk beside the flat screen had a lamp for extra light, and a spinny chair in front of it.

Slender fingers wrapped around Jisung’s hand to guide him into the bedroom just to the right of the sofa. His stomach twinged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you on such an uneasy ending, but it was a good place to stop. Tell me your thoughts in the comments! Remember, next chapter will be from Chan's POV so you'll be getting a little bit of a break. The chapter after that, however, is when things get much darker and more graphic, so pay close attention to the beginning chapter notes.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading to this point! I'll try and keep up the every other day updating schedule!  
> ~Prince


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for this chapter: None
> 
> Chapter word count: 1659

Through all of his best efforts, Chan couldn't shake the dark feeling inside him. It seemed as though a black fog had settled in his lungs, making each breath come with a bit more difficulty. He saw the others' displeasure with him in their eyes when they met; the way Hyunjin couldn't quite hold his gaze for more than a few seconds. Splinters grew in his heart when Jeongin avoided him the moment Jisung left the venue.

He went the whole night checking his phone every few moments, paranoid that Jisung would call him, panicking like he had at the breakfast table a couple of days ago. With a sigh, he headed into the bathroom for a hasty shower, ringer on.

_Just in case,_ he told himself. It never chimed.

By the time Chan entered the kitchen, Seungmin had already made breakfast for Felix and himself and finished his place, scrubbing off the dishes in the sink. Once the water shut off, silence resumed, strong enough to hear a pin drop. The lack of noise bristled against his skin, hair standing up on his arms and the back of his neck.

"Morning, Minnie," he said casually. The younger nodded at him, sleep heavy beneath his eyes.

"Chan."

He whipped around to find Minho sprawled out on the couch, a thick brown blanket stretched over him. Chan had half a mind to ask him if he'd slept there.

"Hey, good morning," he responded, sidling over to sit halfway against the armrest by Minho's head.

"Anything from Jisung?"

He shook his head. "Not a word."

Minho shrugged. "I guess no news is better than bad news."

"Mm."

Tension grew like ivy, climbing up his limbs to wrap around his throat. Air poisoned by that same black fog became trapped by leaves and vines.

"You should probably text to check in on him."

Minho's voice snapped him out of it. "Oh, you're right. That's a good idea."

Chan pulled out his phone and opened his messages with Jisung.

**Chan 10:46 - Morning! How was your first night?**

He didn't anticipate a reply any time soon, especially with how much the boy had been sleeping lately. His heart sank. He felt Jisung slip away over the last couple of weeks, which had happened before, but this left a sinister sense of loss to linger at each reminder of Jisung's presence; his shampoo bottle in the shower, the switch controller he left out, his empty bed. Everything felt so off since Jisung returned from his trip.

_It's probably travel and exhaustion..._ he thought to himself.

Minho groaned and stretched next to him, sitting up. He threw the blanket to the opposite end of the couch. "I'm going to get up finally, but let me know if you hear from our boy, yeah?"

Chan nodded, tucking his phone back into the front pocket of his hoodie. Minho stood, but halted in front of Chan, his hands coming up to cup his face.

"I know you care about him," came Minho's voice in a rough whisper, dry with sleep. "I'm not upset with you."

"I know," Chan hummed. "Jeongin and Hyunjin though..." He sighed. "They're a different story."

"Don't let them turn their issues into yours."

With that, the raven-haired boy left. Chan took a deep breath and moved to his feet. He needed to resolve some of the discourse within the dorm. He knew nobody was comfortable, felt their dissatisfaction in his bones. He had to clear the fog.

When Chan knocked on the door to one of the bedrooms, Jeongin opened it wordlessly, hardly looking to check who wanted in. Chan peeked through to find Hyunjin under his covers on the top bunk, to no surprise. He stepped inside, and plopped down onto Jisung's bunk, across from Seungmin's, where Jeongin was snuggling back into a cocoon of blankets and sheets.

"What is it?" Jeongin asked, sounding content once he was fully nestled into the warmth again.

"I need to talk to the both of you," he said, hands clasped on his lap.

"Why?" Jeongin looked at him, attitude vibrant in his dark brown eyes. "It's over and done with. Why wake Hyunjin up to have a conversation about something we've already discussed?"

Chan huffed, leaning back a bit. "Because you're upset with me. Each of you. I don't want that."

"Then you shouldn't have sent Jisung away when he literally begged you not to," Jeongin deadpanned. "Hyunjin was up half the night anxiously waiting for a text or call, anything from Jisung to indicate that he's okay. I think he gave up around three or four."

Chan deflated at that. They didn't deserve the extra stress of this situation, certainly not when it was him who caused the problem to begin with.

"Look, Jeongin, I know he didn't want to go, but just try looking at it from another perspective. What was this dorm doing for him? He laid in bed practically all day, we could barely get him to eat. He wasn't well. Some time away with someone he's close to, someone other than us, could be really beneficial right now."

"If he felt that way, he wouldn't have broken down like he did," Hyunjin called from above. Chan glanced up, sheets rustling before Hyunjin poked his head over the railing, his hair a rat's nest. Something warm filled his chest, pushing the fog further from his heart.

"Did he tell you that?" Chan asked. Hyunjin's eyes only narrowed. "That's what I mean. None of us know how Jisung was really feeling because he wouldn't talk to any of us. I need you both to know that I did what I thought was best for his health, mental and physical, which is something that I strive to do with all of you."

Hyunjin grumbled, moving off the rail to climb down the ladder. He dropped onto the mattress beside Chan in a mess of long limbs and morning breath.

Hyunjin shared a long look with Jeongin before his eyes fell onto Chan once more.

"We understand that, but something's off. Jisung has never been the kind of person to react so poorly to something. Anything. We've known him for how long? Yet I've never seen him so genuinely afraid like that, even before our debut."

_Stress can boil over like that at any point...This is an entirely different time than when we were trainees._

"We're also stressed over different things now," Chan reasoned, bringing the younger to lean on him a bit more closely. "I know you're worried for him, and I am too, but we can't let it ruin the one place we have to rest and relax. It's okay if you guys disagree with me on this, I'm not trying to change your mind. I just want you to stop being mad at me."

Jeongin huffed. "We're not mad!" His tone came out exasperated. "We're scared. If you weren't willing to listen to Jisung when he was that desperate, why would you listen to any of us if we needed a break, or weren't feeling well enough to do something?"

He gnawed at his lower lip.

_I guess I may have acted more as a tyrant than as a leader…_

"That's fair," he admitted, eyes cast to the floor. "I didn't listen to him. It's hard to watch him...deteriorate the way he does sometimes. Believe me, guys, I want him to be okay just as much as you do. I really do believe that this'll help him get back on his feet, or at least to a place where he wants to get out of bed again."

Hyunjin nodded. "I get that. I don't like watching it either. I'm just worried because he hasn't texted me back, and it's almost noon now."

"He could be sleeping, or spending some quality time with his aunt," Jeongin suggested.

"I'm sure he's fine. I told him he could call me at any point if he needed to come back, and I'd take it as a good sign that we haven't heard anything from him yet.

Jeongin nodded. "I guess. Should we call him just to be safe?"

Chan shrugged, Hyunjin's head bumping against his shoulder. "It can't hurt."

The youngest pulled his phone out from where it had been hidden in the blankets, tapping the screen a few times before holding his phone out as it rang on speaker. They sat in a soft pause of silence until it went to voicemail, when Jeongin hung up.

"Still no answer."

Hyunjin huffed standing up. "If he needs us, he'll say so. Maybe I was overreacting before. Anyways, I need to shower. And eat." He turned to face Jeongin. "Innie, get food with me. I'll pay."

"Only if I decide where we eat."

"Okay~ Be patient for me~" Hyunjin teased in a sing-song voice, brushing his hand against the underside of Jeongin's chin. Jeongin made a gagging sound and flinched back, much to the others' amusement. Hyunjin grabbed some clothes to change into and shut the door behind him as he left.

"Thank you for talking this out with me," Chan said once they were alone. "I don't like making you uncomfortable. I would listen to you if you needed help, you know that, right?"

Jeongin looked to his lap, but nodded nonetheless. "I know. I'm sorry. It was just a little concerning watching him get so worked up and still be made to go."

"I get where you're coming from."

_I need to take better care of them…_

Chan stood, brushing the wrinkles out of his shirt and left Jeongin to get ready. The dorm had grown much more lively over the past hour, Felix, Minho, and Seungmin playing some Mario game on the Switch, which they had hooked up to the TV.

"Channie!" Felix called. "Come play! Get the controller Jisung left out."

_Who could bring themselves to say no to him?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was a bit short but hopefully it serves as a breather from all the stress in the last one...and the angst in the next chapter as well. I'm warning you now, the next chapter does include a graphic rape scene, so if that's not something you're comfortable with, just don't bother with it. It's not the whole chapter, but seriously, don't risk exposing yourself to something if you know you can't handle it.
> 
> Thank you bunches for sticking with me and this story this far! We're halfway done but honestly? I'm probably going to write a ninth chapter at some point. Let me know your thoughts so far!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read the notes. Preferably ALL of the notes :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need everyone going into this to understand that this work features multiple scenes of VERY explicit rape/non-con. I also need you to be able to differentiate fiction from reality. I wrote this, as a work of complete fiction. I would never condone these things to happen to anyone outside of a fictional setting. Rape is not acceptable under any circumstance, and many people suffer non-consensual sexual experiences without ever saying a word about it, or even when they do, they are called liars, attention whores, and their assaulters rarely face the proper justice. This is not a subject to be taken lightly by any means.
> 
> Just because someone reacts a certain way physically does not mean they consent to what is being done to them. A moan, an erection, or anything of the sort does not equal consent. Consent needs to be explicitly stated BEFORE any touching occurs.
> 
> If you have gone through this, please know that I do not intend to romanticize or dramatize your pain. This is not a romantic story, and rape isn't romantic, either. Lots of people go through it and cope in different ways. If you are not comfortable with this type of content, please stay safe and leave now.
> 
> Specifically, this story includes several scenes of explicit rape/non-con throughout the chapters, during which there is also bondage, some knife play, pain play involving whips, belts, scratching. It's dark, and again, I DO NOT CONDONE IT IN REAL LIFE AT ALL. Jisung gets sexually abused by his aunt, and has been treated inappropriately by her for several years. The rape scenes in this fic occur in present day, meaning he is not underage, and the past rape is only mentioned; no detail is given about when or how, which means it is left to the readers’ imagination.
> 
> Please, if you do not feel comfortable with this, LEAVE. Go anywhere else where you can feel safe, because I am not posting this to hurt anybody. If this content triggers you, close the tab. Find another fic to read, and I'm sincerely sorry if anything I've said thus far has upset you.
> 
> WARNINGS for this chapter:  
> Rape/non-con, victim-blaming, blood (from being cut with a knife)
> 
> Word count: 3,588

Red, irritated skin lined Jisung's wrists from where they'd been bound by rope the night prior. As silently as he could manage, he looked to his left, where his aunt had been when they fell asleep. She wasn't there. The sheets were cold. He sat up, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror that sat atop the dresser across from the bed. He shivered, pushing the covers off himself to clamber out and take a closer look. Purple and red marks coated his neck and collar bones where the skin had been abused by her lips, and when he saw the damage dealt to his wrists, a deadness chilled in his bones.

_She really should have softened those ropes..._

While Jisung knew little about proper BDSM etiquette, he knew better than to use brand-new ropes without treating them first, and due to his aunt's lack of effort, he paid the price of red rings beneath his hands. He turned to the nightstand, looking for his phone out of habit. Hopelessness overcame him at the memory of her confiscating it. The clock there read 12:37 PM.

_I slept in…_

He trudged into the living room, clad only in sweatpants.

"Aunt Rina?" he called softly.

No answer. He peered into the kitchen, but didn't find her there, either. A beat of dead silence passed.

 _I could leave,_ he considered. _I would just have to make it to the office, tell them I need to borrow a phone, there's an emergency…_

He peeped out through the window in the kitchen, heart sinking as Rina's car rolled up to the front door.

"Shit!" he hissed, running back to the bedroom.

_Maybe I can just pretend to be asleep...No, won't work. She'll come in to wake me up…_

Before any ultimate decisions could be made, the door opened, and in came his aunt with plastic bags crinkling in her arms.

"Jisungie, come help me with the groceries please," she called from the kitchen. He stepped out of the bedroom again and reached to take a couple of the bags off her hands, setting them on the counter.

"Such a good boy for me," she cooed, raising a hand to caress his cheek. He let it happen, an icy terror settling in his gut at the thought of what she might do if he resisted even such a simple touch. "What's wrong? Want more than just a pet?"

His teeth scraped on his bottom lip, eyes trained on the ground. "No." It came out as a whisper. Her fingers moved to grab his face, nails digging into his cheeks in retaliation. He let out a whimper he would've rather choked on.

"Look at me when I talk to you," she seethed, lipstick-stained lips curled into a frown that resembled a snarl. Tears welled up in his eyes, daring to spill over the edge, but he refused to let them.

_Not this early._

Their gazes met, Rina's much fiercer than his. "What do they think of you, hmm?" she questioned. "How different is it from the truth? Do they all think you're some brave boy who's willing to put himself out on a stage to be judged by people on the other side of a lens? Or do they know how pathetic you are behind closed doors?"

"Please don't, I don't want to think about them right now," he muttered, eyes shutting. She didn't scold him for going against her previous instruction, loosening her grip instead.

"Should I give you something better to think about, then? Fill your head up with only me? How good I make you feel?"

Arms snaked around his neck for fingers to fiddle with the hairs on the back of it. A defeated breath escaped his lips.

_Why me? Out of all of the nephews, why did it have to be me?_

"Help me with the groceries and we can go have some...quality time together, after I take a smoke break out on the porch."

His response came in the form of a hum as he shrugged her off. They both moved further into the kitchen. He took things out of bags as she arranged them into various cabinets and shelves in the fridge.  
Dread clotted his veins more with each passing second, simultaneously knowing, fearing, and wondering what would happen within the next few hours. That tiny, criminally insane part of his mind told him to just fight back, tell her no more, walk out, never speak to her again. The remaining rational portion of his brain reminded him that she would stop him with one touch, one word, one threat, and he would suffer in ways exponentially worse.

Jisung put on a red zip-up jacket to keep warm and sat with her outside, craving the fresh air. The wooden bench was hard, grounding in a way. He picked at his fingers as she smoked one cigarette after the other, a hand occasionally rubbing up and down the length of his back. He never refused her or protested, even when her delicate fingers came around to slip into the front of it. She kissed him, mouth tasting like an ashtray against his. It truly was the least-sexy kiss he could think of.

Once finished, Jisung let her unzip his jacket and shove it off onto the bench, then allowed himself to be tugged into the bedroom and pushed onto his back on his bed. He watched the woman before him, studied her as she delicately removed her sweater. For someone so demented, she had a prominent element of grace about her. Still, his breaths were measured, purposely quiet. They'd only done some heavy kissing the night before, his shirt came off and his hands were bound above his head, but nothing took place below the belt.

Rina clambered on top of him, her palms pushing into the mattress on either side of Jisung's head. Her dark hair tickled his cheek, and despite himself, he blushed, shame setting his cheeks on fire. She smirked, pushing their lips together, using one hand to tilt his chin up and gain more control. He parted his lips, pliant against her silent wishes to slip her tongue into his mouth. Seconds went by before she backed off, motioning for him to sit up. Jisung obeyed, his own bangs falling into his eyes. She brushed them away.

"Go sit by the headboard."

 _Please don't get the rope,_ he silently begged.

Goosebumps rattled up his arms as he followed orders. His aunt stood, swiping a lubricated condom off the dresser. Jisung swallowed down the complaints that plagued him, terrified of the repercussions if he said one wrong word. To his surprise, she didn't grab the ropes, or even the handcuffs he'd caught sight of in her suitcase the previous evening. He froze under her gaze, eyes pleading with her since his lips couldn't.

"God, don't look so desperate," she scoffed. "Giving people looks like that will only show them how much of a bitch you are."

He tilted his head at that, brows furrowed. "That's not how I meant it," he protested.

She laughed outright. "Sure, baby." Her legs straddled over his, hands reaching down to pull the waistband of his sweats below his hips. He promptly looked to the side, eyes shut tight. "Are you gonna cry for me again?"

"Stop," he whispered.

"If you truly wanted that, maybe I would. I know you're faking, though. You crave the attention, so desperate you'll take what you can get, because you like it that way."

Hands softly felt up his sides, maneuvering up to his shoulders before she dug in with her nails, scraping all the way down his bare chest. Jisung hissed at the pain from the rounded acrylic tips. Raised pink lines formed on his chest, trails left as evidence. Her lips rained down on the side of his neck that had fewer bruises. Teeth nipped at his collar bones, forcing a whine from him at a particularly harsh bite.

"That hurts," he said, daring to voice his discomfort.

The back of her hand collided with his cheek, and he yelped out of a mixture of shock and pain.

"That hurts? Really? You know I can do far worse than that, Sungie."

A tear raced down his cheek, but he held his breath to keep from breaking down. One hand palmed him through his boxers, still wreaking havoc on his neck with her mouth and scratching his chest. A rock formed in the back of his throat.

_She's right. I know exactly how badly this could go for me._

Jisung bit his lip harshly. Memories raced through his mind like an elaborate arrangement of dominoes, one toppling into another. All the names she'd called him over the years washed in like a tidal wave.

 _Slut, bitch, toy, whore, pathetic, easy, worthless._ The list went on, and so did her hands. Now, they were skin-to-skin, her body up against his. She'd tapped his hip to get him to lift up so she could pull his underwear down. Her hands pinched and scratched at his thighs, forcing out another small white.

"If you don't quiet down, I'll have to find something to gag you with."

"I'll stop, I'm sorry, I'll stop," he swore.

"You'll be a good boy for me?" she questioned.

"Yes."

Another slap landed on the same cheek, but he made no noise, didn't dare move, either, bangs falling into his eyes.

"Yes what?" It came out as a snarl.

He shook his head, and within a second, her nails were digging into his cheeks again, forcing Jisung to meet her eyes. She raised her spare hand, ready to inflict another merciless blow.

"Yes!" he relented. "Yes, I'll be a good boy." The words tasted like acid on his tongue.

"Whose good boy are you?"

"Y-yours." His breath shook, part from fear, part from holding back any more tears than the few which had already escaped.

"Of course you are, baby. You're not meant for anything else. This is what you've always been best at."

Before he could think of muttering a reply, her mouth consumed his. It almost worked as a proper distraction from the sound of the condom packet being torn open. Self-loathing burned red in his chest. Jisung despised himself for being hard enough for her to slip the condom on in such a situation.

 _I shouldn't be surprised,_ he chastised. _This is how it always goes. I know how disgusting, and vile and fucked up it is yet here I am fucking getting off. It's repulsive. I'm repulsive…_

More tears rained over his cheeks like shooting stars. She sank onto him like he was nothing but a dildo suctioned to a surface. She hardly waited to move, either. Some voice in the back of his mind told him that it wasn't supposed to be like this, that it took more preparation and time, but for as long as he could remember, this is all there was when it came to sex between a male and female. Just get hard, get in, finish. Repeat.

That's how it happened. Jisung couldn't tell how long his aunt rode him for, more of her phantom touches over his body keeping his thoughts occupied, while her real fingers curled in his hair or clawed against his back and arms. He clenched his jaw to keep his mouth shut and buried his hands in the sheets so he wouldn't be tempted to try to throw her off of him. He'd done that once and learned his lesson the same night.

When they both finally orgasmed, she pulled off of Jisung with a grunt and rolled over to the other side of the bed. He got up and disposed of the condom, tying it off before tossing it into the garbage bin in the restroom.

"Go shower." Her tone had that feathery lilt to it she always got after sex.

"Okay."

"Twenty minutes. I'm setting a timer."

Jisung nodded, fishing a loose black tee and a fresh set of sweats out of his bag. Rina made him shower after every time they did this for a minimum of twenty minutes before she did the same. It destroyed practically all physical evidence of anything they had done in bed. He left the door open so she could start the timer as soon as he stepped under the water, and washed up until he heard the default Apple tone go off.

She met him outside of the shower. He looked down to observe her, and she wrapped her arms around his damp body.

"You're perfect for me, Jisungie. Perfect for this. I know you hate to admit it, but I know you enjoy it. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to get such lovely reactions out of you."

Rather than await his response, she turned the water back on and got in. Jisung dried his hair, put on a fresh pair of sweats, and went to the kitchen to make something to eat. Rina returned to the living room shortly after and switched on the TV, settling into the couch.

"I bought those cup noodles you like at the store today. They should be in the cabinet by the fridge."

"I can't eat that. It goes against my diet," he explained.

"Because _I'm_ gonna tell anyone what you did while you were here." She scoffed. "Just make yourself something. There's stuff for salad in the fridge if you're really that worried about it. Pour me a glass of champagne and bring it to me will you?"

_Sure, give me shit for having a diet. Not like it's for my health or anything._

He did as asked, rummaging through a cabinet for the right kind of glass before popping the cork off the bottle and pouring some in. He set it on the table beside her, and after a moment of being thoroughly invested in her show, she took it.

"Go get yourself some dinner," Rina said. "Eat at the bar, and don't get up until I tell you to."

She liked making power plays like that. She'd done it before at a Thanksgiving party one holiday season, pre-debut. She got him impossibly hard then threatened to make him sit at the table with his family with a prominent bulge in his pants if he disobeyed.

He moved over to the fridge, studying the contents before taking out the tub of spinach, some shredded carrots, shredded cheese, and cherry tomatoes. Once he found the bowls, he put together a salad and put the ingredients back, sitting at the bar to eat. His aunt continued to stare at the TV, watching a subbed rerun of _Pretty Little Liars._ Jisung gazed at his food, stomach lurching. He couldn't bring himself to take more than a few bites. Disgust seemed to swirl in his veins.

_How could I try to eat anything after what I've done? What I've allowed to be done to me?_

Jisung glanced again towards the woman on the couch. He debated with himself internally. If he spoke up, refused her in any way, she would surely torture him even more. He'd seen the equipment she'd brought in her suitcase: a whip, flogger, leather handcuffs along with a set of regular ones, rope. He assumed there was more he hadn't seen.

The door was about six or seven feet from where he sat, and his aunt was another nine or ten feet in the opposite direction. He could make it in time. He just had to catch her by surprise. He studied her from a distance. She seemed plenty distracted. With much caution, Jisung stood to his feet.

_Who cares if I'm a little roughed up? I just have to make it to the front office before she can touch me, and pray someone is kind enough to let me borrow a phone. Let's hope they see me more as a kid in need than as some crazed lunatic running into the lobby half-naked._

She must have caught his movement in her peripheral, because Jisung knew he damn sure didn't make a sound. Their eyes met for two full seconds, and the world paused on its axis as the tension built. She was already off the couch at that point. Jisung bolted for the door, but felt his heart turn to a glacier when the knob wouldn't turn at first. He turned the lock so fast he thought he might have broken it and yanked the door to swing it open. His resolve broke when it halted after a couple inches, the guard rail at the top still in place. He gave up at almost the same time he felt his aunt spin him around and shove his back into the door. He felt frozen solid, like a wooden puppet on a string controlled by her fingers. Tears leaked at the corners of his eyes as he stared into hers. An unholy fury scribbled over her face like cursive lettering.

"Please," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I promise."

Her unwavering glare hit him like a blade, and he withered beneath it. She snaked a hand into his hair and maneuvered him into the bedroom. He didn't utter another word, nor did he fight back as she retrieved the course black rope from the dresser.

"You're filthy," she spat, pulling his pliant arms behind his back to tie them in place. "An absolute abomination. Everything I do with you is the most anyone could ever love you, you know that Jisung? You're so deplorable that you'll never deserve to get anything else."

Her deft fingers hooked beneath the waistband of both his boxers and his sweatpants to tug them all off at once before she flipped him over.

"Stop!" He heard himself cry out. He hadn't meant to, but his desperation to get away won against all the fear she'd planted in him over the past years.

She spanked his thigh, eliciting a whimper from him before darting into the bathroom, returning with a washcloth. One hand wadded it up and stuck it in his mouth while the other pushed his face into a pillow. He could hardly manage enough air to breathe, much less scream, but God, did he try anyway. All his pleas were too muffled to understand. He relied purely on sound and touch to figure out her next move. Something clinked, and he knew it wouldn't be the handcuffs since his hands were already secured, wrist to wrist behind his back, pushing his chest forward. He gasped in horrified anticipation. 

_My belt!_

The realization struck him right before the leather. He screamed, begging for help, for her to stop, for anything other than the pain. The lashes stung and burned all at once as she rained blow after blow onto his back. The pillow absorbed his every wail.

"You stupid fucking whore. You could have had such an easy night, but you're just too dumb to behave. This is your fault for making me have to put you in your place like this, Jisung."

The whipping continued until Jisung stopped screaming, pillow drenched in a nasty mixture of tears and snot. Rina rolled him over again. He watched as she searched through her suitcase, pulling out a knife. He shook his head so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash, once again attempting to shout through the makeshift gag.

_No, nonono! That's too much, it'll be too obvious if I go back with cuts all over me! She can't do this, please…_

Jisung clenched his teeth onto the washcloth as she sat him up and made small, light swipes across his body, slicing into his thighs, shoulder blades, and upper arms. None too long or too deep to be concerning, but just the sight of the blade against his skin caused him to tremble. Some looked like mere cat scratches while others were obviously intentional cuts etched into his skin. He shook, pulling his knees up to try and make himself smaller, as tears formed rivers down his cheeks, one following so closely after another that they seemed to be constantly flowing in streams.

"You're a vermin, Jisung," Rina said with a quick smack to his face. "You deserve this. What kind of person lets themselves get pleasured by their aunt, huh?" She tore the gag from his mouth. "Answer me, you bitch."

"Pl-please..." His voice trembled, equally as unreliable as the rest of his body; weak.

"Answer me!"

"A pervert!" he cried as her palm made contact with the other side of his face.

"That's right."

She went for three more rounds that night, hardly giving Jisung a chance to recover before starting to move again, slapping, scratching and pinching as she bounced up and down. By the time she pulled off for good, his entire body twitched from overstimulation, amplifying the pain from all the wounds she had inflicted. Quietly, Jisung sobbed as she undid the rope, replacing it with the metal cuffs, linking his wrists above his head through the bars at the top of the headboard. The key dangled from a small chain, almost long enough to be a necklace but not quite. His aunt hung it on the doorknob, as though to mock him. She wiped him off and got a wet towel to clean the blood from his back, chest, thighs and arms. He blacked out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to stress again that non-con is not acceptable. Writing a work of fiction in which it takes place does not equal promoting or condoning rape, the same way that not saying "No" or "Stop" doesn't equal consent.
> 
> Fiction and reality are two very separate things, and if you do not understand that, you should not be here. There are many examples of such things happening in TV and books, published works of fiction that earn people money, such as "Human Centipede," (movie with like 2 sequels) "Reign" (Netflix series), "13 Reasons Why" (Book & Netflix series), "IT" (Stephen King), "I Stop Somewhere" (Te Carter), "Six of Crows" (Leigh Bardugo), and "A List of Cages" (Robin Roe). All of those feature at least one of the following: graphic child abuse, human trafficking, kidnapping, sexual abuse, rape/non-con, sexual slavery, body horror, gore, mutilation, sexual assault of a minor. If you want to argue that everyone writing these things condones that, take it up with someone else, maybe a lawyer if you're really that upset by it and feel the need to do something about it. Regardless, that's simply not how the world works. Do you think James Dashner condones human experimentation or murder because he wrote The Maze Runner series? How about shows like The Vampire Diaries where people have their hearts ripped out? Do the writers condone doing that in real life because they wrote it in fiction?
> 
> Next, I am not responsible for any effect this work had on your mental health. I properly tagged everything, I put very explicit warnings in all chapter notes and in the summary. The beginning notes in the first chapter when nothing even happens explicitly stated what was to come, and you were thoroughly warned several times throughout the length of this fic. If you read it anyway, that was a choice that you made. I didn't make it for you. Everyone who has made it to this point knew very well what they were getting into unless they somehow completely ignored everything I did to deter people from reading something they weren't comfortable with. I hope that isn't the case, and if you read it, you were comfortable enough while doing so that you didn't get upset or "triggered" for the lack of a better word.
> 
> Finally, if you are in a similar situation to any of the events in this story, my heart goes out to you. I encourage you to reach out to someone you trust and do your best to get away from whoever has violated you. Your feelings are valid, you are valid, and so are your needs. It is not selfish to get away from that situation and take care of yourself. There are many many hotlines you can reach out to around the world if you don't personally know anyone you can talk to. I'd say you can talk to me, and I suppose you can through comments but I will not be linking my twitter to this fic. I am so sorry for what you've been through, but I know that if you can make it through something like that, you are an incredibly strong individual, and you deserve to know that.
> 
> Thank you for reading? I'm sorry my mind came up with this? But, it did. I originally wrote the first 3 chapters in 2018, and then didn't touch it after that because of a couple authors who wrote rape fics and got hardcore cancelled for it. Just as I was getting ready to write more, one of the same authors got cancelled again and doxed, as well as cyber bullied by pretty much the entire fandom. I'm sure most of you know who I mean. But, I've always been one to rock the boat and not conform to other people's ideas of right and wrong.
> 
> Please note that if you want to have a respectful discussion with me, I am willing to do so, but I do not know you on any personal level, meaning I won't value your opinion as highly as I would a friend or family member's. That's not to be mean, but you have to understand that some stranger coming at me on the internet is kind of cringe and frankly does not earn my respect. That has to go both ways.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for this chapter:  
> None :D
> 
> Word count: 1,551

Two days had gone by without so much as a read receipt from Jisung. Conflicting ideas battled it out in Chan's head. He didn't understand what to believe.

_Is Jisung in trouble? Did something genuinely happen that should cause me to be so worried? Or is he just upset with us for making him go even though he didn't want to?_

His mind raced throughout most of the night, a tight, hollow feeling in his chest keeping him up until around 4 AM. Chan finally woke up and hopped out of bed around nine, changing clothes into a hoodie and skinny jeans before walking into a dorm full of rowdy boys.

"Hi Channie!" Felix called when he entered the living room.

Chan mussed his disheveled hair. "Morning. Well, morning for me." He chuckled.

"Did you sleep ok?" Seungmin asked. "You were in bed for a while."

He shrugged. "Took me a bit to fall asleep last night, but I got around five hours, so I'm good. I can always nap later."

Seungmin nodded and turned back around to watch whatever movie or show Hyunjin had set up in the living area. Chan walked over and leaned against the arm of the couch, tapping Hyunjin on the shoulder. When he had the younger's attention, he whispered.

"Pause it real quick?"

The blonde nodded and reached for the remote, stopping the scene in its place. Felix, Seungmin, and Changbin, who had all been watching with him turned with raised brows and puzzled expressions.   
Chan cleared his throat.

"Where are Minho and Jeongin? Are they here?"

"Jeongin took him to a shop in the outlet mall down the road maybe an hour ago," Felix said. "They texted a few minutes ago to say they were almost back."

"Okay, I just need to talk to you all really quick."

As if on cue, Minho waltzed through the door, laughing loudly with Jeongin trailing behind him.

"Stop laughing! It's not funny!" Jeongin swatted the dancer's arm.

"Yeah it is! You dropping change all over the floor with six people behind us in line at the checkout? Comedy gold, my friend."

"Guys, please help me." Jeongin turned to them with an irresistible pout, one he rarely used, though it never failed to get him what he wanted. "He has been making fun of me for the last fifteen minutes. I have been humiliated by this man."

"Minho, don't be an ass," Changbin chided.

"Both of you come in here for a minute, I think we should all talk," Chan instructed.

The two boys by the door immediately cut their antics, expressions falling into concern as they settled into the loveseat.

"Is everything okay?" Minho asked.

"I'm not sure," Chan said honestly, hiding his messy curls under his hood. His fingers fiddled with the strings. "Jisung hasn't picked up any of my calls or even read my texts."

Felix shook his head. "Mine, either."

"Same here," Jeongin added, shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I'm a bit concerned?" Chan began, talking with his hands. "I'm honestly considering calling his aunt just to check in and make sure he's okay. I got her number when I took Jisung's duffel bag to her car for her."

"It's not a bad idea," Changbin commented. "It can't hurt. Besides, it’s not likely she knows Jisung is ignoring us, so she might even put him on the phone."

"Bin has a point," Hyunjin agreed, brushing a hand through his long, silk-like hair. "I don't like that he's not checking his phone, or at least not anything from us."

"He could have just finally figured out how to turn read receipts off," Seungmin pointed out, tone flat. "I think he's turned this into a much bigger deal than he needed to, which is why it's putting us on edge. He's probably perfectly fine."

"Still," Chan said, tone more desperate than he would have liked. "I think he's really mad this time. I just don't want to lose his trust, you know?"

"So call Rina," Minho said determinedly. "Have her put him on the phone if she can. She'll think you're being a good friend and you might even get to talk to Jisung himself. What's the worst that can happen?"

"She tells me Jisung doesn't want to speak to me," he answered blatantly. "Think of how badly I made him feel the day before he left. He would hardly talk to me during the showcase."

"Chan, he has to get over this eventually," Felix reasoned. "Besides, maybe his phone finally broke and that's why he hasn't responded.

Chan huffed, anxiety sending goosebumps up his arms.

_Are they right? Or have I really broken his trust beyond repair? What if he refuses to come on the phone?_

"Oh my god, Chan, just call her already," Jeongin grumbled from his chair. "You aren't the only one who wants to make sure he's fine."

He took a deep breath and took his phone out of his hoodie's front pocket, searching through his contacts until he came across the right one.

_Roe Rina_

He pressed the call button and held the phone to his ear, quickly taking it away and putting the call on speaker when Hyunjin whisper-yelled at him. The phone rang twice before she answered.

"Hello, this is Rina."

"Hi," he said cheerfully. "This is Bang Chan, Jisung's bandmate?"

"Ah, yes I remember you. How are you doing?"

He held back an eye roll at the small talk. "I'm fine mostly, just a bit worried about Jisung, actually. He hasn't been answering his phone since he left, which is pretty unlike him so I just wanted to call and make sure everything was alright."

"Oh, yeah! We're having lots of fun over here," she said with a small laugh. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure why he wouldn't be answering."

"Well, he and I had a minor falling out the day before he left, but it's still rather out of character. Plus, he hasn't said anything to any of the other members, either."

"Ahh, I see. If you would like, I'm sure I could get him on the phone? He's just laying in bed right now, I think."

"Sure, that would be great, if you don't mind."

Chan's eyes met Jeongin's eager ones momentarily, but he hastily averted his gaze, something sick relentlessly churning in his gut.

"Not at all, let me grab him."

Some shuffling sounded on the other side of the phone before it went completely silent. Chan assumed Rina muted herself to prevent too much extra noise getting picked up. Soon enough, a familiar voice sounded from Chan's phone.

"Hello," Jisung said softly.

"Jisung! Hey, I've been trying to get a hold of you," Chan said, keeping his tone light.

"Oh? I think there's something wrong with my phone, it keeps dying on really high percentages so maybe that's why..."

Chan laughed. "Idiot, I told you not to charge it while using it so much."

Jisung also let out a small giggle. "That's me, messing up my phone~ Anyways, what did you want to talk to me about?"

He paused. "Am I on speaker?"

Another beat of silence passed as Chan awaited the younger boy's reply.

"No."

"Okay, it's just... I know you were really upset about having to go, and I was just afraid that you were still really mad at me, and that's why you wouldn't answer."

"Oh, Channie, no," Jisung vehemently protested. “I'm not angry with you, I swear. I'm not mad, really!"

"You're sure?"

"Of course. If that were the case, doesn't it make more sense that I would have at least texted someone else?"

"I guess you're right. So, you're doing okay then?"

Another small pause.

"Yeah, of course I am. I know to call you if something comes up, remember?"

"Right, but if your phone's not working-"

Jisung cut him off. "Rina will let me use hers. I have to go now, Channie, but thank you for checking in on me. It really means a lot."

"Okay... You call me if you need anything, yeah?"

"Yeah, thanks hyung. Bye."

"Bye."

The dial tone beeped a few times before silencing itself.

"So he's fine," Hyunjin stated.

"I guess so," Chan relented with a sigh. "I got paranoid for nothing. Shocker."

Minho laughed. "It's what makes you a good leader. And hey, now you know that there's nothing bad going on between you."

"You're right." He nodded, relief taking a tiny fraction of the ever-impending weight off of his shoulders. "I can let this go."

Once Chan slipped his phone into his hoodie's large front pocket, normalcy resumed. The drama played on the television, Hyunjin begrudgingly let Felix snuggle into his side, Changbin bickered with Seungmin over whether or not the plot was even realistically possible, and Jeongin rolled his eyes at it all while Minho laughed at their ridiculous comments as to why it was unlikely that the main character would even end up at the same military base as the love interest when it was in an entirely different country.

Chan smiled fondly, heart swelling at the sight of his boys taking time off to laugh and cuddle and relax; to breathe deeply for more than just a few seconds between schedules. He let himself take a deep breath, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was late AND short, I hate to delay since I know a couple people actually like it :(( The 3 day weekend got me all off track, but oh well. Tell me what you think!!
> 
> Also a heads up, next chapter will be EVEN WORSE than the last one! So yeah, more gratuitous warnings to come :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for this chapter: rape aftermath, violence via riding crop, knife, and a belt. Slight carving (no description of blood), there's no choking but a hand is wrapped around a neck at one point as a threat, heavy degradation and victim-blaming.
> 
> Chapter word count: 3,457
> 
> Yeah I'm....this one is the heaviest. PLEASE be very careful reading this and click off if you feel too uncomfortable.

Light blared into Jisung's eyes from the window. He groaned in annoyance at the sunrays that filtered through the curtain, infiltrating his brief moment of peace. When he tried to sit up, the chain of the handcuffs pulled taught, digging into his wrists before he relented. Running water could be heard from the other side of the bathroom door. Jisung glanced around the room and spotted Rina's phone on the nightstand beside him.

_She must have left it there before she went to take a shower…_

He gazed at the device for a long moment, before shifting his focus to the brutality she inflicted on his body hours earlier, after he'd gotten off the phone with Chan. He felt sick with himself for lying to his leader, one of his best friends. He had the phone on speaker the whole time. Even when asked to take Chan off it, he lied.

After the phone call, Jisung determined to never let it happen again. No more touching, sharing a room, nothing. He knew that if he had to take any more, he would lose himself in her twisted words. Luck seemed to be in his favor, for once.

Jisung maneuvered his body sideways, hands still bound above his head, but legs bent at an acute angle at his hips. He snatched her phone from the bedside table with his feet, and lifted them up to grab the cell into his hands.

_Thank god for the ridiculous amount of stretches I've had to do._

To tie the opportunity into a neat little bow, she didn't even have a passcode. Jisung had memorized a few phone numbers; his parents', their manager's, as well as a few of the members. He scooched up the bed to sit close enough to the headboard that he could hold the phone in front of his face and dialed Chan's contact, too frantic to risk scrolling through her call history in case he missed it. After the third ring, his heart rate skyrocketed in fear. He knew he could always call a manager, or resort to the police, but felt much more comfortable at the thought of telling Chan to come get him than anyone else. He had no idea when his aunt would step out of the bathroom, but he _did_ know his time was limited. Relief flooded his body when Chan's voice came through the speaker for the second time that day.

"Hello?"

"Chan," Jisung muttered, trying to stay quiet, paranoid the woman might catch him.

"Jisungie? Hey! Do you want me to put it on speaker so you can talk to everyone? They were a bit worried as well before we got hold of you earlier," his cheerful voice spilled through the phone like honey.

“You have to come get me, I’m in room 108 B, please,” he begged, clutching the cell tightly. “She took my phone when I got here. I don’t know where it is.”

“Jisung, you’re supposed to stay there for a couple more days,” Chan said, hesitant.

“Hyung, please.” Jisung’s tone grew more fervent now, heart wrenching at the thought of being made to endure another night. “It’s room 108 B,” he repeated. “There’s a bench on the porch outside the room. I left my red jacket there yesterday. I need help. She’s hurting me and I need help, Chan. Please don’t make me stay here.” Sobs leaked through the speakers, and he heard Chan shushing him from the other end of the line.

“What’s wrong? What do you mean she’s hurting you?” He shook his head and shut his eyes.

“I can’t tell you,” he cried. “Please, come get me hyung, I’m scared. I don’t want to hurt anymore just please-”

He felt the air ripped from his lungs by the gasp that left his mouth when the bathroom door opened; his aunt standing there in one of the complementary hotel robes, an icy glare in her eyes that told Jisung all he needed to know: he would pay for this.

“No!” he screamed.

She tore the phone away from his hands after a minor struggle, all while Jisung shouted at her to stop.

"I'm sorry! Please don't do this! Just let him come get me and I won't say anything, plea-"

She cut him off with a hand over his mouth, promptly ending the call and throwing the phone on the ground. When Jisung cried out for help in a last-ditch effort to alert anyone who might be residing in the adjacent rooms, her hands wrapped around his throat.

_Oh...oh she's pissed…_

Over the years, she had hurt him plenty, sure, but she had never done anything that implied killing him. He stilled with a whimper, allowing his tense body to relax until she let go, when he began to plead   
with her again.

"Please, don't hurt me, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't, I don't want this! Please don't hurt me!"

She practically growled at him as she undid the handcuffs, replacing them with the calloused rope from days prior. He didn't resist in the slightest, knowing that whatever was coming would be worse than all he'd been through thus far put together. Fighting would only make this harder for him. Rina pulled a crop from her suitcase and ran it along his sides before thwacking it against his ribs, one of those extra sensitive places she made sure to pay special attention to. She hit his stomach and nipples, too, and he bit his lip in an attempt to keep quiet.

_Channie will get here soon. The drive will take a while but I can do this. Just hold on and I’ll be fine. Half an hour, tops. Traffic should be light since it’s not quite rush hour yet,_ he reasoned with himself as tears streamed down his cheeks.

After about five minutes with the crop, she switched to her knife, carving a little "HER TOY" into his skin, just to the side of his belly button at a slight angle. A few more minutes passed of her etching random marks into his skin while verbally degrading him. She stood up and placed her tools on the dresser. She may have taken his shirt the night before, but Jisung was thankful to still have his jeans...until she unbuttoned them and pulled down the zipper.

Somewhere along the way, she must have grabbed another condom, because before his mind could catch up to what was happening, she was settling down onto him, and he hissed at the sudden pressure of her wrapped around him. She leaned in and licked a cut on his inner bicep, shooting a stinging sensation up his arm.

"You're nothing but a problem for people, Jisung," she said breathily. "I thought I could teach you how to do better, how to be something other than the mistake that you already are."

He clenched his eyes shut in shame, knowing no proper argument for her.

"Now you're quiet? After all of this trouble you've caused? God, the only useful thing about you is your dick."

Jisung gagged, wishing he could just pinch himself and wake up to a world where none of this had ever happened, where she'd never touched him, and they just had a typical relationship between an aunt and her nephew. He thought the cycle of torture-rape-false comfort-torture-rape-go would never end, until she shot up and checked the clock on her phone. She took a fresh pair of wadded-together socks and shoved them past Jisung's lips before retrieving a scarf to tie it around his mouth, holding the homemade gag in place. He whined and she scratched his cheek in retaliation, but drew no blood.

“Shut up,” she spat. “Have you any idea how much trouble you’ve caused? All your little roommates are going to know how disgusting you are now. They’ll know you’re just a little bitch who submits at the slightest hint of dominance.” He shook his head, but she continued. “They’re going to find out about all the dirty little things you get off on from being such a pain slut.”

He shuddered. Even now, he wanted them to never find out the details of what happened with him and his aunt, just that it was toxic and abusive.

“They’ll judge you, you know. For being so deranged and perverted. Letting your relative tie you up and then begging for more. You’re nothing but a disposable whore, and you know it. Soon, so will they, and they’ll hate you for it.”

With that, she disposed of the condom, pulling his pants up. She did her hair and makeup, then changed into her new outfit for the day. A striking but modest red dress with a wide neckline, long sleeves, and a skirt that rested just below her knees. Rina looked like the perfect, innocent aunt she so often pretended to be. The sad part was, it worked. For so many years, it worked. She fooled everyone. Not once had anyone asked Jisung why his hips were sore every time he spent the night at her house. Nobody questioned why he’d wear a tank top when his family went to meet hers, but sleeves every day after that. They never suspected a thing. All because she wore a kind smile, doe eyes, red lipstick, and a cherry-sweet voice. But every time that door closed and sealed him behind it with her, the mask cracked, and the beautiful housewife she once was faded into nothing, completely devoured by the demon inside her, that would soon consume him, too.

She left the room and shut the door behind on her way out, chain swinging and clinking against the wood. Jisung heard a bunch of shuffling about before the TV was turned on, and changed to the weather channel. Jisung’s chest heaved as his mind still tried to process what the hell was happening.

_Is Chan coming? Is she telling me the truth? Will the people I love turn against me for being a victim of something so out of my control?_

He wondered, could he really escape this, or would it happen again in another year, as it always does? These thoughts among a dozen others filtered through his mind for the next fifteen minutes or so, working Jisung up to the point he was shaking, afraid of being found, afraid of being left. Then his aunt reentered the room and got his belt again, picking up where she'd left off once she turned him over to lay on his stomach. The impact of the leather against the bruises from last night ripped a shout from his mouth, though the gag muffled it almost entirely. At least ten minutes went by before a knock sounded faintly from the other room; too far away to be the bedroom door.

_They’re here. Someone’s here to get me. I can leave._

She flipped him back over. One of her lithe, witch-like hands gripped the sides of his face, making him look at her.

"If you make one sound, the next twenty-four hours you're here will be worse than you can imagine. I will make _sure_ you won't be able to walk or even speak without thinking of me and how much pain you're in because of your stupid decision to call someone on my phone."

He nodded in frantic understanding. Rina left the room, and a moment later, Jisung heard his manager's voice.

“We’re here to pick up Jisung,” he said. “Apparently Chan got a call from him and he needs to come home.”

“W-What?” his aunt stuttered. “Um...Jisung isn’t here. He told me he had a friend in this area who wanted to take him out for dinner, and I said that was fine. You just missed him, though. He left about ten minutes before you got here.”

Tension flooded every corner of the hotel room. “It’s kind of urgent,” a second man’s voice called, oddly familiar but not quite recognizable.

“I can give him a call, if you’d like?” his aunt offered.

“Chan said Jisung called him from your phone,” his manager said.

“I don’t believe so,” his aunt replied.

“Listen, we’re not leaving here without that boy, so you need to tell us exactly where he is or we’re going to have a problem.”

“I’m sorry, have I done something wrong?”

“Ma’am, tell us where your nephew is right now, or I’m going to call the police and you can tell them.”

“Excuse me, sir, but you do not get to barge in here and accuse me of losing my nephew!” she sassed. “Jisung didn’t say where they were going for dinner. I’m not sure they’d even decided yet, but if this is such a big deal for you, I can call Jisung right now. His phone was perfectly fine the last time I saw it, and I can assure you that he never borrowed mine.”

“Would you mind letting me into the room to grab his things, then?” the somewhat familiar voice asked.

“I can get them for you.”

There was a pause. “That won’t work. We need to see the bedroom,” his manager decided.

Jisung tried calling out to them, but the gag silenced his words. So, he flipped himself over onto his side, and shimmied upwards, then shifted his body sideways, so that his legs were aimed at one of the nightstands. He kicked the lamp over. A crack sounded once the lightbulb collided with the now-bent cover. All noise from the other room ceased, and everything sat in peace for a moment, until he heard footsteps coming closer and his aunt shouting, “You can’t go in there! This is an invasion of my privacy! Get out! Let go of me!”

His manager stumbled into the room, and Jisung looked down in shame. “Oh, dear god…”

“What’s going on in there?” Jisung finally recognized the other man to be Jung-Hwa, head of travel security at JYP. He’d helped plan most of their trips out-of-country, and even some in Korea. Jisung was glad to at least know who else would see him like this.

“Here, lets, um… Let’s get you up,” his manager said gently, before answering the other.

“He’s in here. Give me just a second and we’ll be out.” He undid the gag first and wiped Jisung’s tears, offering him a sad smile as a means of comfort, but Jisung looked away with his eyes clenched shut as the man untied the ropes around his wrists.

“What happened?”

Jisung shook his head, already starting to sniffle once more, and the manager sighed, turning away while Jisung zipped his jeans.

“Alright. I’m going to grab your bag and then we can go. Okay?” He nodded. “Here.” The man shrugged off his denim jacket and held it out for Jisung, who slipped it on. He cringed at the way the harsh material rubbed against the wounds on his back, but decided not to say anything.

The manager got his bag and put his shoes inside of it before zipping the duffle. When they left the room, the manager had Jisung’s things in one hand, and the other around the boy’s waist to keep him steady. Jisung guessed he seemed a bit too worn-out to carry himself properly.

When they passed Jung-Hwa and his aunt, she lunged at him, and one of her palms touched his shoulder. Jisung froze instantly. His eyes widened and he took in a sharp breath, but didn’t shift his gaze to look at her. She whispered in his ear.

“You’re an abomination,” she hissed. “You don’t deserve them. They’ll realize that, and then none of them will love you.”

Jung-Hwa yanked her away from Jisung once he saw the boy’s breaths become short and haggard, droplets racing down his face. He hadn’t even made it out the door yet. He managed not to break down completely, however. Logically, he knew her words held no truth. _She_ was an abomination, and his members would give so much for him. They’d proven that. But, that part of his mind that she controlled made him doubt what he already knew, even if just a tiny bit.

The manager led him out of the hotel room, and Jisung sighted the black van parked at the curb with Chan and Minho waiting outside the open door. Behind him, he heard his aunt screeching, and a look over his shoulder showed that Jung-Hwa was struggling to keep her away from Jisung. He turned back around and walked faster. Minho looked absolutely menacing. Jisung could tell he wanted to punch her. It showed in his eyes. He took two steps forward before Chan caught him by the arm, but that only stopped him temporarily before Minho pulled away and stomped towards Jung-Hwa and Jisung’s aunt.

Both adults stilled, and Jung-Hwa seemed to be panicking, but Minho only glared at her and walked right past, grabbing Jisung’s red jacket from the bench on the little porch area. Jisung made it to Chan and watched as Minho walked right up to his aunt and said, “His phone, right now,” with so much quiet power, it almost intimidated Jisung as much as his aunt did. She nodded, and went back inside for a moment. Minho followed her in, and came back out alone a few seconds later; not long enough to have caused a worry. When he made it back to the two outside the van, they fawned over Jisung.

“Are you hurt?” Chan wanted to know.

“Do we need to take you to a hospital?” Minho questioned.

He shook his head. That’s when Jisung broke completely.

“What’s wrong?” Chan blurted. “What did she do?”

Jisung bowed his head and sobbed into Chan’s chest. When Minho came up and hugged him from behind, he let out a little yelp, and the dancer backed off immediately.

“I’m sorry- I-” Minho stuttered, but Jisung cut him off.

“Jacket hurts,” he whispered.

“What?” Chan’s brows kit together. “The jacket’s uncomfortable?”

Jisung nodded. “Too rough.”

Chan hummed and helped him slip it off, handing it to Minho, who looked away politely before taking off his own bomber jacket and offering it to the youngest.

“Would this be better?” Jisung nodded and switched it out.

They coaxed him into the backseat of the van, where Chan sat on one side with Jisung sprawled out on the rest of the seats in that row, his head in the eldest’s lap. Minho sat in the row in front of them, reaching back to rub comforting circles into his leg while the manager and Jung-Hwa discussed outside.

Their manager peeked his head in. “Check him for injuries, please.”

Chan’s face fell, but he gently sat Jisung up and got him to roll the jacket down to his elbows, exposing the upper part of his back. Minho let out something between a groan and a whimper at the sight while Jisung clung to Chan’s chest like a koala, soaking the latter’s shirt in his tears as he sobbed.

“Don’t look,” he begged, but they’d already seen.

“Why don’t you want us to see?” Chan wondered.

Jisung shook his head as he tried to catch his breath.

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down,” Minho tried, but that seemed to escalate the episode.

“Well?” the manager called.

“Nothing that can’t be treated at home,” Chan said.

The manager nodded and hopped in the driver's seat, with Jung-Hwa on the passenger's side. The ride home was worse than anyone thought it would be. Jisung only grew more upset with every try at getting him to calm down or open up.

“Sweetheart, why are you crying?” Minho asked. He didn’t respond.

“Sungie, you need to calm down,” Chan tried. “You’re breathing too fast and you’ll pass out.”

“No,” he whined. “‘m sorry!” he cried out of nowhere.

Chan’s eyes met Minho’s above him. “What are you sorry for?” Chan asked. Jisung couldn’t manage a single word without choking, sniffling, or stopping to catch his breath.

Chan knew this was a panic attack. He’d had plenty to be able to recognize it, but he’d never seen anything of that intensity. He’d found Hyunjin and Changbin like this before, and stopped Seungmin from a couple, but never had he even thought it would happen to Jisung, one of the strongest in their maknae line. Jisung’s breathing just grew worse and worse. He trembled in Chan’s arms, and Chan’s eyes welled up with unshed tears as he looked to Minho and shrugged, as if to say _I don’t know how to help him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was a trip... I'm sorry, I don't know why my sick mind allows me to think of such things. Again, though, I want to remind everybody that this is all fiction. I would never wish any of these actions on any person, nor do I condone them.
> 
> Next chapter is not as...dark? It's mostly just gonna be Chan going "fuck, what do I do" so, not too bad, and it'll also give you his account of what happened when they got Jisung back.
> 
> Hopefully I didn't scar anyone for life with this...and hopefully whoever made it through that chapter liked it lmao. Let me know your thoughts!
> 
> Also I just want to note that the next chapter was originally supposed to be the last, but I have written a ninth and intend to release it here as well. No spoilers for it though! I also made an aesthetic for it which I'm pretty excited about, since it is very different from the rest. Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~Prince


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for this chapter:  
> Rape aftermath, mentions of injuries including scratches and bruises
> 
> Chapter word count: 3,086
> 
> It's basically the last chapter but from Chan's perspective.

Screams flooded through the other end of the phone like an unrelenting storm, cut off by the dial tone the moment the line ended. Chan's chest stopped moving entirely, breath held captive in his lungs. Changbin and Felix both stood up from the stools by the bar they'd been sat on.

"What happened?" Felix wanted to know.

"He said someone's hurting him?" Changbin questioned.

He blinked. "I...Fuck, I have to go. Minho, get dressed, I want you to come with me!" He shouted as he ran down the hall to grab a jacket, pulling up their manager Sangmin's contact as he went. He answered on the first ring.

"Chan, what can I do for you?"

"There's an emergency," he said, rushing through the words. "I need you to pick me up at the dorm and take me directly to the hotel Jisung is staying at as quick as you can. Something's wrong."

"What happened?"

"I don't know," Chan confessed, stuffing his house key inside his pocket. "He called me from his aunt's phone freaking out and said she hurt him. A few seconds later he started shouting and the call ended."

"Did you call back?"

"Wha- No I didn't call back! I called you!"

"Okay, okay! Calm down, I'm already in the van. I'll be there in ten minutes," Sangmin promised.

"That might not be fast enough!"

"Well it's as fast as I can safely get there, so take a damn breath," the man scolded. "Who all am I driving?"

"Just me and Minho. I told him to get ready. We'll be waiting outside at the curb when you get here."

"Alright. Hang tight, okay? We'll get him."

"Yeah."

He hung up, darting back into the living room so fast one might think he'd been walking barefoot on a burning path of charcoal.

"Where's Minho?" He looked around frantically.

"Here, I'm right here!"

Minho stumbled into the room, hopping on one foot as he tried to slip a sock onto the other. Chan almost laughed, but his heart felt like a stone in his chest, hard, heavy, and deteriorating with each passing second.

"What's wrong? I thought he was fine this morning," Jeongin asked, hugging Seungmin a little closer than he had been a few minutes ago.

_Why do people keep asking me that? I get that I'm really supposed to know, I'm the 'leader' but fuck's sake, I am not a visionary._

"He just said Rina was hurting him; I'm not sure how. We're going to get him and bring him home as soon as we can."

"I never should have let him leave," Hyunjin said, more to himself it seemed as he shook his head and scoffed. "I knew something was gonna happen and I let him go like a fucking idiot."

"Hey." Chan took the younger by the shoulders, making eye contact. "I'm the one that agreed to the plans without asking him, then I argued with him about it, and even when he begged me to let him stay, I didn't listen. Don't act like this is on you, Hyunjin. We all know whose fault it is."

"Chris," Felix said, chastising. "Stop it."

"C'mon Minho. We need to go."

He slipped away from Hyunjin, sprinting out the door with Minho close behind him.

"What do we do when we get there?" Minho asked.

Chan sighed. "I think I should go get Jisung's things, and bring him out of there. You should wait in the van with him and Sangmin while I talk to her so I can find out what happened."

"Is that really a good idea? What if someone sees, or pictures get taken and you're recognized?"

He shook his head. "There will be nothing to see. I'm just going to grab his stuff and leave with him. What is she gonna do? Pick a fight?"

A black van swerved to the curb, a click sounding to signal Sangmin had unlocked the doors.

Chan pulled one open and guided Minho in first, following and closing it behind him. Sangmin was driving, with Jung-Hwa, one of JYP's lead security members in the passenger seat.

"Jung-Hwa," Chan said dumbly. "What're you doing here?"

"I brought him just to be safe," Sangmin said, to which Jung-Hwa nodded.

"I'd like to make sure everything goes okay and no one gets hurt, is all."

His words reminded Chan of the potential for someone to actually be harmed during the encounter.

"I got the address from my last conversation with his aunt about making plans, and it's in the GPS now. Do you know the room number?"

The vehicle started moving. "Yeah, Rina mentioned it's a suite that you can pull straight up to, and Jisung said the room number is 108 B. There's a porch with a bench on it where Jisung left a red jacket."

"Well that's a detailed description."

Chan shrugged. "It's everything he managed to tell me before the call ended."

"Did he say what happened?" Sangmin asked.

"No! He just said she was hurting him! I don't know what that means. I don't know if there was an accident, or if she hit him, or what, I just know that he called me panicking and screamed "please stop" before the call dropped!"

"Hey, shush." Minho reached around Chan's headrest to rub circled into his shoulder blades from behind. "It's okay. We're gonna get there and make sure he's safe. We can worry about the details later. For now, let's just get Jisung."

He sighed, biting his lip to hold back tears.

 _I caused this. If I had just_ listened _when he was crying and pleading with me, maybe he would be okay right now. Maybe we'd be playing cards at the table or sneaking into the studio to work on new tracks because that's what we always do on our days off. But no, I had to be an ass and send him into the lion's den._

Chan estimated that roughly twenty more minutes ticked by before they turned into the parking lot of a Marriott halfway across town. They drove through for a bit until they found the "B" suites, and pulled up to one of the last ones. Just as Jisung said, it had a raised porch with a bench.

_His jacket's there._

Chan rushed to open the door, but it remained locked. He whipped his head around to look at Sangmin.

"We have a plan," the manager said, tone gentle, like he was talking to a wild animal. "I need you two to stay here while we go in. You can be in the van or in the parking lot, but do _not_ step onto the sidewalk. It's for your safety, as well as your reputation. You cannot get into any sort of lawsuit if all you do is stand there while we go to pick him up."

"No," Chan argued. "Absolutely not. Reputation be damned, I'm getting Jisung."

"Chan," Minho tried. "It's better this way. Besides, Jung-Hwa is going, too, and you know they want what's best for Ji as much as we do. You're too emotional right now."

He huffed, shifting his focus back to Sangmin. "Fine, but if you're not outside with him in twenty minutes I'll go, too."

"Fine. It shouldn't take long," Jung-Hwa agreed.

The doors unlocked and Chan stepped out, Minho coming to lean against the van beside him. It had been parked at a very crooked angle, their haste clear from it's position, halfway between parallel and perpendicular to the curb. Sangmin and Jung-Hwa walked up to the door and rang a bell, shoulders squared as if to make them even larger than they already were. Chan didn't know either of their exact heights, but he knew he was made to look like a child next to either one of them.

"I hate this," Chan muttered. Minho put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

They could hear everything, the way Rina denied that Jisung was even there, that he ever used her phone, how there was "nothing wrong with his." It made Chan sick. He glared at her in a way that even intimidated himself, like he was so furious that even he didn't know what he was capable of. Then there was a menacing pause, just before Jung-Hwa held her by her arms while Sangmin went further inside, and Rina started yelling.

"What's happening?" Minho wondered.

"I don't know."

His brows remained furrowed, checking the clock on his phone, simultaneously hoping that they'd be out with Jisung before he had to step in, but also anticipating his chance to go inside with them just to see any evidence of whatever had gone down.

It lasted for another eight full minutes, and in one-hundred-and-six seconds, Chan would get to go after them. His plans were stopped, though, when Sangmin returned with Jisung, who donned the manager's denim jacket. Chan saw Minho take a hard step forward and tried to catch him by the arm, but was shaken off.

"Minho!" he called, only to be ignored as the dancer passed Jisung and Sangmin who were almost to the van. Minho walked all the way up to look Rina in the face. Chan hardly heard the words as they dripped from Minho's mouth like acid.

"His phone. Now."

Rina, with her eyes wide, nodded, and guided the man in. A hollow sensation ran through Chan's chest, but left when Minho came back out, snatching Jisung's jacket off the bench before meeting up with them again. Sangmin went to the porch again to speak with Jung-Hwa and Jisung's aunt.

"Are you hurt?" Chan questioned, pulling Jisung close. Minho said something as well, but Chan tuned it out, all attention dedicated to the cracking boy in front of him. Jisung shook his head, bawling into Chan's front.

"What's wrong? What did she do?"

Minho attempted to hug him from behind, but Jisung wailed, and Minho practically jumped away.

"Sorry, I-"

"The jacket hurts," Jisung whispered, hardly loud enough for Chan to interpret.

"The jacket is uncomfortable?" He needed to check to make sure he'd understood.

Jisung nodded. "Too rough."

Chan and Minho both glanced at Jisung's red jacket. Chan frowned. It had embroidery on the back, which wasn't exactly what he'd call 'soft,' and he'd have to let go of Jisung in order to take off his own, which he honestly wasn't sure he'd be able to bring himself to do, at least until he got home. Minho offered his instead, and Chan relaxed.

_Bomber jackets always have smooth linings, and it'll keep him warm enough. I don't think he even has a shirt on…_

"Let's get into the van, yeah?" Chan suggested, keeping his tone light. "It's warmer, and you can lay down in the back."

Jisung nodded and followed the eldest in, laying down on his side with his head in Chan's lap. Minho took the seat Chan had earlier. Before Chan could get another word out, Sangmin poked his head through the driver's door.

"Check him for injuries please."

Minho nodded, and the manager closed the door. Chan sighed, pain in his heart as he guided Jisung to sit up. He began to gently roll the sleeves down the younger's shoulders, a quiet whimper escaping the younger's lips. He'd exposed the upper part of his back. Minho let out something between a groan and a whimper at the sight while Jisung clung to Chan’s chest like a koala, soaking the latter’s shirt in his tears as he sobbed.

"Don't look," he begged, but they had already seen.

“Why don’t you want us to see?” Chan wondered.

Jisung shook his head as he tried to catch his breath.

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down,” Minho tried, but that seemed to escalate the episode.

“Well?” the manager called.

“Nothing that can’t be treated at home,” he said.

The manager nodded and hopped in the driver's seat, with Jung-Hwa on the passenger's side. The ride home was worse than anyone thought it would be. Jisung only grew more upset with every try at getting him to calm down or open up. Chan briefly feared he might be overwhelmed with pain, but Jisung pulled the jacket back on the moment Chan had let go of it. Despite the short amount of time he'd been able to view the boy's skin, marred with cuts, bruises, and splotches of pink.

“Sweetheart, why are you crying?” Minho asked. More head shakes.

“Sungie, you need to calm down,” Chan tried. “You’re breathing too fast and you’ll pass out.”

“No,” he whined. “‘m sorry!” he cried out of nowhere.

Chan’s eyes met Minho’s above him. “What are you sorry for?” Chan asked. Jisung couldn’t manage a single word without choking, sniffling, or stopping to catch his breath. Jung-Hwa kept casting them concerned glances, but Minho's broad form served to hide the boy from his view.

He continued to pet Jisung's hair until he fell asleep, head in Chan's lap, sock-clad feet pressed up against the wall of the van, thin legs cramped up at the knees. When they arrived at the dorm, Chan maneuvered Jisung so he held the rapper in front of him, his hands supporting his thighs with Jisung's arms wrapped around Chan's neck.

When the door swung open after Minho unlocked it, Chan walked into six sets of eyes firmly planted on the boy in his hold. Every other member stood to their feet, but not a single one of them spoke as their leader carried one of their youngest into the hall. He set Jisung down on the boy's bed, thankful he had a lower bunk so no one would need to move around for a night or two. Once he had Jisung safely under the covers, he knelt down beside the mattress and held his hands, bowed in guilt.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. He hated that he cried over everything, but he couldn't help it this time. This was more than just a sad scene in a TV show or a homeless cat on the side of the road. This was his best friend in shambles. The door creaked, averting his attention to Minho, who stood in the entrance.

"Hi," he said.

Chan smiled, letting out a tiny laugh. A simple greeting seemed absurd in such a tangled situation. "Hey."

Minho's droopy eyes suited his damaged expression; knitted brows, pouted lips, dark circles under his eyes, likely from the stress.

"You need to talk to the others. They're getting antsy out there, and they want to see Jisung."

"I have nothing to tell them." Chan shrugged. "I don't know what happened anymore than they do, and as for Jisung..." he huffed, glancing at the younger. "He needs rest, clearly."

"I understand that, but _they_ need _you._ Okay? They need someone to be strong right now, and I don't know how to do that. That's why you got the job."

Chan shook his head, slow tears still escaping. "How do I do that, Minho? How do I look at them and tell them that this is fine, like I didn't cause it?"

"Did you cause it?" Minho's head tilted to the side. "Did you cut him and bruise him? Send him into an absolute panic?"

"Not directly, but I quite literally handed him off to the woman who did. I put his bag in her trunk after setting the whole thing up." He grimaced, guilty of the crime.

"If we went for a drive right now, got hit by a drunk driver, and I got hurt, would it be your fault because you were the one behind the wheel? Or mine, because I agreed to go? Would you even consider letting the one who broke the law take the blame?"

He sighed. "It would be their fault."

"Right. This is Rina's fault. Not yours, or Sangmin's, or Jisung's."

Chan nodded, taking the hand that Minho held out for him to lift him off the floor. The younger guided him into the living room where the others had already settled in. Chan looked to the floor to avoid their gazes. Everyone sat around him, either on the couch, the floor, an armchair. He couldn’t bring himself to look at anyone directly, so instead he focused on his clasped hands.

“I don’t know what happened,” he admitted, regret poisoning his tone. “I know Jisung should be fine without a hospital, and that he’s tired, and extremely emotional. We didn’t see the hotel room, so it’s hard to say what exactly occurred. I wish I had better answers for you, but I’ve got nothing. I don’t even know if he’ll tell us anything.” Chan shook his head. “When he wakes up, I don’t want anyone to ask him any questions about it. Take care of him, sure, see if he needs anything, don't pester him. I understand that we all want to know, but that discussion has to happen on his terms.”

“What about work?” Changbin questioned.

Chan huffed, running a hand through his thinning hair, but Minho answered for him. “I’m sure Sangmin is taking care of getting us a bit of time to recover.”

“Is he hurt?” Felix wanted to know, brows knit in a kind of concern that made Chan’s stomach lurch.

“Yes and no,” he said. “There are cuts and bruises, but nothing that shouldn’t heal on its own.”

“Why?” Hyunjin demanded, hurt rushing through his voice along with the pained tears on his face. “Why did it happen?”

“I’m sorry,” Chan whispered, eyes shut tight. He brought his arms up to hug himself. “I wish I could tell you, but I don’t understand it either.”

“Can I go into the room?” Jeongin asked out of nowhere, already on his feet. Chan blinked.

“I mean, as long as you don’t wake him up, I suppose you can do whatever you want.”

“I need to lay down.” With that, the maknae fled the scene.

Chan kept his head hung in shame, unable to help or comfort the way he usually could so easily. Hands fell onto his shoulders, and he looked up to see Seungmin.

“It’s not your fault. We aren’t mad at you.”

“But Jisung might b-be.” He broke, curling into the younger’s chest and finally allowing the tears to seep through the cracks. He’d held strong for as long as he could. One by one, the others came to shush and console him, forming something of a group hug.

_What happens when he wakes up?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for sticking with me! Only one more chapter to go :3 I really am so grateful for the love everyone has shown this fic despite the dark content, I honestly anticipated at least a little backlash but that never happened. Thank you all so so much for keeping me motivated through your lovely comments as well!
> 
> ~Prince


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for this chapter:  
> Rape recovery, discussion of rape, yelling/arguments, discussion of injuries sustained during rape, minor violence? A mug gets thrown on the floor and breaks that's all.

Jisung squinted his eyes, light blaring in from everywhere; the ceiling, the door, the pillow beneath his head, the blinds-

_Blinds?_

He looked to his right, where the mundane hotel curtains should be. Instead, he found Jeongin with him beneath the covers, nestled against his shoulder, eyes closed and at peace. Jisung shuddered as bits and pieces from the previous day’s events filtered in. It all blurred in his mind, some moments not fully there in his memory. Everything right after the phone call stood out vividly, but once the manager entered the room things grew hazier, the car ride an unreachable memory.

_They know._

He huffed, lifting himself onto his elbows with a hiss as the cotton sheets wrestled against a few cuts. Beside him, Jeongin stirred, blinking up at him momentarily before shooting up into a sitting position.  
“Jisung.” The younger’s eyes were blown wide. “I’m sorry, I’m just surprised you’re awake already...Are you um… Do you feel okay?”

He stared for a moment. _Do I?_

“What do you know?” he asked cautiously, leaning towards the wall. He needed to know what territory he was in.

Jeongin rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “We don’t know anything. Chan and Minho don’t, either. Just that something happened and you got...hurt.” He gestured to Jisung’s cut up shoulders, the elder slinking lower into the blankets and adjusting Minho’s jacket to cover himself.

“Right, that makes sense,” he said with a sigh. “How did I...how did I come in? I think I fell asleep in the car so it’s hard to remember.”

“Chan was carrying you. You were asleep.”

Jisung let himself go limp against the pillows, eyes closed. “And what was I wearing?” He groaned, arm coming up to block his face.

He felt Jeongin shrug. “Jeans, I think? Minho’s jacket. Why?”

One peek under the covers told him that the clothes were thankfully still wrapped around him. “Did you guys see anything else?”

“Anything else like what?”

“Anything else of me? My...fuck, my arms, my chest, anything.”

“No.” He heard the lingering wonder, the unasked question in the maknae’s deep tone.

_He wants to know why._

“I um...Would you mind sending Chan in here?” He shifted to look Jeongin in the eyes.

He nodded understandingly, sliding out of the bed and stretching. Jisung realized the youngest was also fully clothed, clad in a sweatshirt and fitted blue jeans. It caught him off guard.

_I thought he probably just came in last night after he took a shower or something._

“I’ll go get him.”

Jeongin left the room and Jisung took a deep breath, sitting up enough to carefully slip Minho’s jacket off of his shoulders and down his back, until he dropped the garment onto the floor. He peered around the room, his room. With some time alone, he took the opportunity to glance himself over. Red and pink lines littered his arms and torso, particularly around his wrists.

_Nothing I haven’t seen before, just to a new extent._

The door opened and Chan entered silently, coming to sit at the edge of the twin bunk.

“Hey, Sungie,” the elder sighed. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know yet,” he said honestly. “Chan, I don’t remember getting home. I don’t remember pulling out of the parking lot of the hotel.” With a deep breath, he continued. “I need you to tell me what happened starting when we left up until now.”

The elder nodded, a deep sigh escaping his lips. “Well, once we got you in the car and saw your, um, your back and… everything, you got pretty hysterical. We tried to calm you down, but eventually you wore yourself out. I guess all the stress from whatever happened caught up to you. I carried you in and put you in bed, None of the others saw anything, just me and Minho. I told everyone else you were hurt but not badly enough to need a hospital, and I told them not to nag you about it once you woke up. I hope Jeongin being in here was okay.”

“Of course it’s fine,” Jisung assured him with a heavy sigh. “I’d prefer if none of them treated me differently or like I’m...sensitive, or something.”

“I understand. There is one thing we need to do today, though.” The younger furrowed his brows. “The cuts should probably be cleaned, if you weren’t able to do that properly at the hotel. I’m happy to help if you want, but if you’d rather do it yourself that’s alright, too.”

His instinctual response was to immediately shut Chan down, tell him he could take care of it on his own; he was fine. Logic seeped in through his web of lies, though.

_My arms hurt...it’ll be a bitch to try and reach everything on my back…_

He looked to the floor. “You can help.”

Jisung realized that would likely benefit Chan as much as it did him; their leader always had some inner need to be useful, help where he could, and be reliable to everyone around him, most of all the other members. That’s why he got the job.

_That’s probably what got us into this mess to start with… I was so shut off he really thought I just didn’t want to be around people._

“Can you get me a hoodie or something with sleeves?” he asked. “I don’t want anyone to see me and get more worried.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Chan stepped over to the closet and found a navy blue sweatshirt. Jisung recognized it as Seungmin’s, but he also knew it was super soft on the inside, not protesting when Chan tossed him the garment. He slipped it on with little difficulty and looked to his leader, who stood dumbly in the center of the room. Jisung rolled his eyes.

“Come here and help me up, idiot.”

Chan grinned and a barely-there flush rose to his cheeks. He took Jisung’s hands and pulled him out of bed, steadying him once he got to his feet.

He winced, a sharp pain shooting through his hips. He pushed the elder away gently.

“Ah, put me back down,” he rushed, and Chan set him back onto the mattress. “There’s a shoebox under the bed that has a bottle of ibuprofen in it. Give me three, please.”

“What hurts?”

“My hips are sore. It’ll be fine.”

Chan held three circular pills out to Jisung, which he swallowed dry.

“Okay, we can go now. They should kick in by the time we’re done.”

The elder hesitated to move, but lifted Jisung to his feet after a momentary lapse. They made it to the bathroom across the hall without being seen.

“Do you want me to help take off your shirt?”

“I got it.”

“Why do you keep pain pills under your bed?"

Jisung chucked the top across the room and sighed, sitting on the edge of the tub. "Do you wanna start with my back, arms, legs, or chest?"

Chan tilted his head, a silent anger lurking in his eyes. "What's wrong with your legs?"

He shrugged. "Same shit, cuts, bruises. So where?"

The elder shook his head and pulled the first aid kit out from beneath the sink. "We should do your chest first. Then I'll move to your back, arms, and after that, we can see about your legs."

"Okay."

"Does anything hurt other than your hips?" Chan asked, retrieving the rubbing alcohol from the kit along with a small stack of cotton swabs.

Jisung wanted to scream. _What is he thinking? How could anyone look at me right now and still not see it?_

He scoffed. "Does this look painless?"

Chan cringed in guilt, lowering his gaze as he started disinfecting Jisung's wounds.

"What about the pills? You didn't answer me earlier."

Jisung shoved him off, the elder falling back onto his ass on the bathmat.

"You still don't get it do you?" He scowled, furious that his best friend couldn't figure it out by now, desperate for someone to see the situation for what it truly was without him having to give it to them in the bite-sized pieces they would barely be able to handle.

"Then make me get it," Chan pleaded, tears welling like bubbles in a soda that someone poured too fast, ready to bubble over. "Tell me what kind of mess I made so I can at least _try_ to fix it! Please!"

With a simple breath, he leaned in and looked Chan directly in the eye. "This isn't the first time this has happened."

_There. I spelled it out for him._

Chan visibly retched, blinking the liquid out of his eyes. Jisung could sense the level of rage in the air, stronger than just his own. A red tint had risen to Chan's neck.

"The first time _what_ has happened?" he said through grit teeth.

Tears formed in Jisung's own eyes, his turn to hold them back. "I said it three days ago and I'll say it again, _I can't tell you!"_ The last four words came out slowly, mockingly.

"Why not? We're already here! I- _I_ did this, so why don't I deserve to know exactly what kind of damage I've caused? At least give me the _chance_ to fix what I broke!"

Faint raps tapped on the door. "Are you okay?" It felt like he hadn't heard that voice in years.

_Changbin..._

"We're fine, just, arguing," Chan called back. "Just ignore us."

Hesitation, then shoes slowly padded away against the hardwood floors. Chan's attention returned, gaze still questioning, guilty, needy all at once.

"I can't have you look at me like this every day for the rest of our lives," he admitted in a whisper. "I can't sit here, _finally_ getting the help I've needed for so many years, Channie, at the cost of the relationship we have right now. I _can't_ do it." Droplets streamed down his cheeks.

"It's not about how I look at you, Jisung. This is something else, I know it."

"You're right!" he snapped. "It's what you'll _think."_ His heart broke, knowing Chan would never see him as the same person if he learned the truth, each crack sizzling with the pain of not allowing himself to confide in his closest ally. Self-disgust ran through his bloodstream.

"What will I think, then?" Chan's tone was suddenly calm, though he was crying too. Jisung watched the tears dry on his skin like paint on a canvas as Chan continued cleaning the cuts on his body, having made his way to his back already, crouched down in the tub so Jisung didn't have to move.

"I'm an abomination." And then he felt nothing at all. "I'm disgusting, and repulsive. I let it be done to me, not just this weekend, but for years. I let all of it happen, because there is some twisted, corrupt part of me that enjoyed it. My body enjoyed it, but I didn't, and we are two separate things." He blinked, shoulders slumping with a breath. "Even though I always denied it, I knew I was filthy, and I knew I probably deserved it."

Chan came back around to kneel before him, hands resting on Jisung's left knee. "Jisung, what are you talking about? You're none of those things. I'm so sorry, I just don't understand." He sniffled. "I want to, but I don't understand."

Eyes still on the fuzzy bath mat, he spoke. "She raped me."

It wasn't a whisper, or a shout, just a word.

One word and yet it was enough to turn everything into a lie, a trick. It was the hydra of all words, the one explanation that demanded more to follow after, but Chan didn't ask for more. He rested his head on Jisung's knee and he wept.

"S-Sungie, I'm so sorry," he rushed out in a single breath. "This is not your fault, it's _mine_." Even Jisung felt the pain from that, like a dagger to Chan's heart, but also in Jisung's back at the same time. "I sent you there. I took away your choice not to go. I'm just as bad as her."

As if he had emerged from the depths of the sea, he gasped, coming back to himself. Jisung pulled Chan up by the shoulders and looked right into his broken soul.

 _"No._ You made me go because _I_ gave _you_ no other choice. I made you think I wouldn't accept your help, and that I needed to get it from somewhere else. You may have opened the door, but I was the one who left it unlocked. You couldn't have known."

Chan looked at him with a mix of fear and astonishment on his face. "Don't forgive me, Jisung. Tell me you're not forgiving me."

Jisung pressed their foreheads together. "There's nothing to forgive. I am angry, but this- rage I have, isn't for you. I don't think it's even for her. It's for everyone who saw, suspected, wondered, and never said a word about it."

"I don't deserve you," Chan said through a deep breath.

"I didn't deserve her, but sometimes we don't get what we deserve. We just get what's offered."

"What she did wasn't an offer, and if it was, you didn't accept," Chan reminded him.

"I know. Trust me, I know. Can you do something for me please?"

"Anything, always."

_Our reliable leader._

"Don't say a word. I think I might...I don't know, I won't be in a good place if they know. It'll feel like being under a microscope."

"Of course. I'll say whatever you want me to."

He nodded, nipping his bottom lip. "For now, we say she hurt me. That's it. No more, no less."

"Alright."

Chan pulled him down and hugged him close. They stayed like that for a while, rocking each other back and forth, until Chan pulled off and set the swabs and the alcohol into the kit, placing it under the sink where it belonged.

_I'm where I belong._

"And Chan," Jisung started when the elder stood up. "I will tell you everything. I promise. Not today, but when I'm braver."

Chan's eyes closed, and another tear fell. "Jisung, you are incredibly brave. You shouldn't have to be more."

"But I do, for me," he explained. "Someday I won't look at you guys and worry about you thinking about all the things she told me you would. That's the day I'll tell you."

Chan nodded, and he lifted Jisung to his feet. "We can get your legs another time. You need to lay down or you're gonna fall over."

He yawned. "You're telling me. Stay in the room 'til I fall asleep?"

"I will."

~***~

 _Three days,_ Jisung thought to himself. Three days since his rescue. It was the first day he woke up without that hollow feeling in his chest, the fear that rested there. Clad in beige pajama pants with little brown weenie dogs and an oversized dark gray t-shirt, he walked out into the living room. Felix, Jeongin, Chan and Hyunjin were all competing in a Just Dance tournament while Minho and Seungmin slaved away in the kitchen. Changbin was nowhere to be seen. He stood there, waiting for a pause in the dorm's natural rhythm of chaos. The round ended, and they quieted down to pick the next song.

"I want to talk about Rina."

Everything turned to glass, still and elegantly so. Six pairs of eyes blinked at him expectantly like bats in a cave.

"Okay," Minho said, shutting off the sink and removing the pink rubber gloves they used to wash dishes. "Why don't you all take a seat in the living room and I'll drag Changbin out of his room?"

He nodded, and Chan made sure to have an open seat waiting for him, right by his leader's side.

_My brother's side._

Minho returned only a few seconds later, one wary looking Seo Changbin in tow. They took their spots around the coffee table, which had been moved into place once the Switch was turned off. The younger of the two hadn't so much as looked at Jisung since the incident.

"I'm really not sure if all of you can handle hearing this," he said honestly. "Especially since a lot of you have been on edge the past couple of days... It's different right now, I know that, and I get that you're all worried a little more because you don't know what went on. Today is the first day I've really felt like explaining I guess..."

"Okay, Sungie," Felix said. "If we get uncomfortable or overwhelmed, how about we say so and figure out where to go from there?"

He nodded. "Alright." Jisung's gaze momentarily flicked to Changbin, who concentrated on picking at his nails. "You know she hurt me. That's nothing new to you guys. I'll start by saying this is not the first time, not even close. Aunt Rina has treated me...differently, for years. It wasn't always of this nature, but it has been for a while." He rubbed at his wrists through his sleeves, the skin still raw from the harsh treatment they endured.

"How long?" Hyunjin mumbled, sinking into the couch.

"I'm not super sure? I always just thought she was a little odd or had a strange way of talking when I was little, but looking back on it I see now that she never really acted the way an aunt is supposed to, there was always some hidden meaning to what she said. It got bad in high school, though."

"What does 'bad' mean, Sungie?" Minho wanted to know.

"Um..." He looked to Chan for help, reassurance, advice, _anything,_ unprepared for questions so soon. Chan took one of his hands and laced their fingers together.

"Violent," Chan said simply.

Jisung nodded his affirmation. "Pretty much. I've already told Chan the basics, but he doesn't know the details, so it's not like he's kept anything from you."

"Ji, we don't feel like that," Seungmin said in his natural warm tone. "This isn't gossip to us, we just care about you and want to be sure you're okay."

"Okay good, 'cause I don't want you guys to resent him in this. You can say he made me go or whatever, but that's not the full story. My behavior influenced that decision, and he's not the one who...um..." He sighed. "He's not the one who did this..."

Slowly, Jisung stood and lifted his shirt, pulling it over his head but not completely off of his arms, keeping the garment at his elbows. He caught Hyunjin wince and shut his eyes, but most members openly stared.

"Jisung what the fuck?" Minho asked, tears on his cheeks.

"How did you get all of that?" Felix's brows were furrowed, mind lost in confusion.

He rolled the shirt back over his head and sat down again. "A combination of her mouth, a belt, and a knife." When no one spoke, he rolled up his sleeves, exposing the spots where rope and metal had irritated his skin. "There's also this, and a few things on my legs, but I'm sure you get the point by now."

"What are the lines from? Actually wait, do I even wanna know?" Jeongin questioned, confliction evident in his pouty lips and furrowed brows.

"Ropes and handcuffs."

"What the fuck," Hyunjin exclaimed, sitting up. "She just came fully equipped to torture you?"

"Yep, that's also how it was the last time I saw her."

"Earlier this month?" Seungmin asked.

"Mhm, when I went for the family reunion. It wasn't nearly this bad, almost all of this happened when I made her mad when she caught me trying to leave, then again when she found me on the phone with Chan."

"But she put you on the call," Chan protested. "Why would she hurt you for something she agreed to?"

"Not that call. That morning when you contacted her, she told me what to say and I kept you on speaker the whole time."

"You said he wasn't," Hyunjin pointed out.

"I lied." Jisung shrugged. "She was in the room. I couldn't say anything without her approval, and if I did, she would've done something to hurt me, or at least not let me talk to you at all."

Everyone seemed to realize his situation, just beginning to understand that he was not a guest, but a hostage; not a nephew, a target.

"Why _did_ you ignore all our texts by the way?" came Hyunjin's voice. "I'm not judging, I just never figured that part out."

"My aunt took my phone the day she came to pick me up, on our way to the hotel. I never saw any of your messages until a couple days ago when I was brought back."

"Wait," Felix interrupted the conversation. "A minute ago you said she caught you 'trying to leave.' When did that happen?"

Jisung took a deep breath, remembering how he came so close to freedom just to have it stolen by a door guard.

"The day before y'all got me back. I got to the door, but couldn't undo all the locks fast enough. That's when she used my belt to do everything on my back." He shivered, haunted by the sensations. "After she saw me using her phone to call you guys, that was it. I've never seen her so angry, never _felt_ her anger that much at one time."

Changbin still hadn't said a word, though Jisung knew he listened, the elder's face and body language reacting to his every word.

"There's not just that." His tone became empty.

"What do you mean?" Seungmin prompted.

Jisung shut his eyes, and leaned back into the arm Chan had rested around him, composing himself. He repeated the exact phrase he'd told Chan days before.

"She raped me."

Pure silence, then an outburst. Jisung heard something shatter and opened his eyes. Changbin stood in the center of the room, a ceramic mug broken across the floor.

"Changbin-"

"No!" the elder shouted. "Why would- why would she do that?"

"Hyung-"

Changbin cut him off again, glaring at the ground. "I hate this!" His fists remained clenched at his sides. One had a drop of coffee on it, likely from the drink he'd thrown.

"At least _look_ at me!" Jisung screamed. " _Look_ at me, Changbin! I'm _here,_ I'm telling you everything I've tried to bring myself to say a thousand times before and it's like you can hardly pay me any attention."

"Because I did this!" Changbin finally met his eyes, face drenched in tears, shoulders shaking, but his voice remained hard and clear. They held eye contact for what felt like a millennia. "I was the final vote," he whispered through grit teeth. "I did this."

"No you didn't!" Jisung said incredulously, fighting tooth and nail to get them to see his point. "You didn't, and neither did Chan! All of you are innocent."

"That isn't true."

"Yes it is," Jisung argued, more determined now. "Because guess what? At the end of the day, you didn't rape me."

"I was the one who cast the deciding vote, though!"

Chan huffed. "Yeah, and I'm the one who put Jisung's bag in the trunk.

"I came up with the voting idea to begin with," Jeongin muttered. "If you're guilty, so am I."

"Sangmin agreed to the plans before contacting Jisung," Minho pointed out. "At this rate, Changbin, you're gonna run out of fingers to point."

Jisung sighed. "I'm not mad at you, Bin. I'm not mad at any of you. I don't want you guys to take the blame for a crime someone else committed against me. There's only one criminal in this situation, and she's not in the room."

Changbin wiped his eyes and fell back onto the loveseat. "I still hate this."

"This, too, shall pass," Jisung muttered. "Really guys, please don't be mad at yourselves, or each other. I never said anything, so none of you could have known what I was walking into that day."

"You still said no, and we made you do something anyway," Seungmin said. "Jisung, _I'm sorry._ I was such an ass for treating you like a kid throwing a temper tantrum when you were clearly not okay. I promise I will do better to listen to you."

"Seungmin, it's okay. I forgive you."

"I um...I'm sorry, too," Hyunjin said through silent tears. "I knew something was wrong after the showcase that day, and you know me. When my intuition tells me there's something wrong, it's always right, and I didn't go with it. I knew I needed to pull you aside that day, but instead I watched her walk out with you. I shouldn't have done that."

Felix's hand rested over Hyunjin's. "You didn't know, even if you had a gut feeling. No one expected things to turn out like this."

Hyunjin nodded, relaxing into the other's hold, but he still looked to Jisung.

"It's okay, Jinnie. You didn't do anything wrong. It's okay."

"On a different note," Minho began, "are you sure you don't want to go to a hospital? I'm no expert on sex crimes, but I know damage can be done internally and externally, and even though you've showered since, there could still be evidence."

Jisung shook his head. "She's always made me shower for twenty minutes after every time we had sex. There is no evidence."

Minho bit his lip and settled back into the couch, simultaneously defeated and furious.

"I know that I'm physically okay," he assured. "My hips aren't sore anymore, and all the little cuts are gone. The bruising just takes a little time when it's bad like this."

"It pisses me off that you know that," Chan said, pouting and glaring at the coffee table. Jisung couldn't resist a laugh.

"It's okay, Channie. They'll heal."

"So, I have another question," Felix said. Jisung nodded for the freckled boy to continue. "This is why you were acting so distant the past couple weeks, right?"

"Yes. I sort of...detach from things afterwards. Usually, I'm around her for several days at a time, so I have her calling me all these names and saying things about me that I don't want, and nobody else is saying otherwise, because no one would think to come up to me and be like 'you know, you're not a disgusting piece of shit,' because nobody thinks I'm getting called those things. It's a total one-eighty to go from that to, well, normalcy. It’s like I need a minute to buffer once I’m not drowning in her anymore."

Felix hummed. "I get that...you haven't been acting the same since, though. Is something different?"

He contemplated it. _I guess I didn't push everyone away this time._

"Yeah, actually. For one, Minho and Chan already saw all the cuts and everything at its worst...I couldn't lie my way out of anything with them at that point. The other thing is, I know it's not going to happen again, because I have more of a support system now. I don't know if I'll press charges or anything like that but I know you guys won't let me put myself in those situations out of fear anymore."

"Jisung, of course not," Minho said, hands clasped in front of him. "None of us will let her anywhere near you. We have your back in this."

Hyunjin agreed. "You may have been dealing with this alone for a _really_ long time, but not anymore. We'll do our best to make sure you're okay."

Jisung sighed. "Honestly, I don't think I'm gonna be going through, like 'recovery' or whatever...I've dealt with this before, it's not going to be some big thing. Don't get me wrong, for years, my worst fear has been you finding out, and now I'm sitting here telling you in detail. I never wanted anyone to know because the idea of being looked at like a victim breaks me. Honestly, I hate the thought of you guys being scared to jump on my back so I can carry you, or hug me, or be nervous about shit like that. I just want to go on. The longer people act like it's some life-changing, doomsday scenario, the harder it will be for me to feel like I'm okay."

"We understand," Chan promised, looking into his eyes. "We won't be weird about it...and I know it might take you a minute to believe this, but none of us think of you any differently just because we know what happened, okay?"

Jisung glanced around the room. Everything looked still, like a paused frame in an old movie. He waited for their confirmation.

"He's right," Changbin admitted. "We don't think any less of you. If anything, I think I'm finally starting to understand how brave you are."

He smiled. "Thanks, Binnie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it :) I'm honestly so thankful to have been able to write this and for it to have gotten such lovely followers. Hopefully I can keep up with releasing decent content.
> 
> Honestly, huge thanks to the couple of people who have been commenting on pretty much every single chapter. Y'all made my day so many times, I would literally get so excited to leave work so I could respond to them. You're amazing.
> 
> To those of you who managed to read this all the way through, I'm shocked you bothered sticking with it lmao, but also really proud, because I know this isn't an easy story to read, so as much work as I put into it, you guys had to try a lot too, so thank you :3
> 
> And!!! Congratulations to me, because this is (technically) the first multi-chaptered work I have EVER finished. Ever. I've been writing for almost seven years, so I'm super glad to have finally pushed myself to seeing something through.
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who read this! If you are interested in other stuff I've written, I do have more Stray Kids fics up already! Plans for writing the rest of the year are to finish my other series, "They All Fall Down," and I'm currently in 3 fests, I've already completed a short fic, am halfway through another, and am about to start on my third, so those will be getting revealed in a couple months or so.
> 
> This has been a super fun, immensely rewarding experience for me. Another special thanks to Yuki (WhereverMyWay on AO3) for being my beta and encouraging me through literally every chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for giving this fic a chance, and I hope that you enjoyed what you've seen so far.
> 
> Comment moderation is on, but I'll still see whatever you choose to say, and constructive or positive feedback is always welcome. Any hate comments I receive for any chapter of this fic will not see the light of day. Respectful questions and discussions are fine of course, but flaming is boring and you and I both have better things to do with our time than write or read hate :)
> 
> I also want to clarify that this fic was beta read by someone much older and wiser than I am, who I genuinely trust to tell me right from wrong. I have talked to a few other writers about the kind of content this fic entails, asking their advice and honest opinions. All the feedback I received ultimately guided me to post it.
> 
> I'm not sure when chapter two will come out, but it's all written already so it shouldn't take too long.


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